*  >   " 


IRELAND 

ITS    SCENERY,    CHARACTER 
AND    HISTORY 

VOLUME  OKE 


IRGLHRD 


>o      ^si/o    vJso  o 


CELTIC 

which   one  thousand   numbered 
and  registered  copies  have  been 


printed 


'Printed  ly 

<EHE   COLONIAL    'PRESS 
C.  H.  Simon di  &  Co.,  Boston,  U.  S.A. 


TO  HIS  ROYAL  HIGHNESS 

THE    PEINCE    ALBEET 
TEbfs 


DESCRIPTIVE  OF  A  COUNTRY  WITH  WHICH  HIS  ROYAL  HIGHNESS  IS  SO  CLOSELY 
AND  SO  AUSPICIOUSLY  CONNECTED, 

IS. 
BY  GRACIOUS  PERMISSION  OF  HIS  ROYAL  HIGHNESS, 

MOST  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED 
BY  HIS  FAITHFUL  AND  DEVOTED  SERVANTS. 

THE  AUTHORS 


2066263 


PREFACE 

IT  is  necessary  to  preface,  briefly,  the  First 
Volume  of  our  Work  on  "  Ireland; "  chiefly,  in 
order  to  express  our  grateful  sense  of  the  patron- 
age it  has  received. 

We  are  justified  in  assuming  that  it  has  not 
disappointed  public  expectation:  for  its  sale  has 
far  exceeded  our  most  sanguine  hopes,  having 
more  than  doubled  the  calculation  of  the  Publish- 
ers. By  the  Press  of  England  and  Scotland — 
we  believe  universally — we  have  been  greatly  en- 
couraged ;  and  also  by  that  of  Ireland,  with  very 
few  exceptions. 

We  have,  therefore — we  hope  and  think — in- 
duced that  confidence  in  our  honesty  of  intention, 
without  which  labour  such  as  ours  must  be  com- 
paratively vain. 

To  have  satisfied  all  parties,  in  Ireland,  would 
have  been  a  triumph  we  did  not,  for  a  moment, 
calculate  on  achieving.  Although  we  have 
studied  to  avoid  topics  upon  which  opinions,  in 
that  country,  are,  unhappily,  divided,  it  was  im- 
possible not  to  touch  upon  some  of  them :  the  rule 
we  have  laid  down  for  our  guidance,  and  to  which 
we  shall  conscientiously  adhere,  is  TO  ENDEAVOUR 

TO  CONSIDER  EVERY  SUBJECT,  WITHOUT  TAKING 
INTO  ACCOUNT  WHETHER  IT  IS  SUPPORTED  OR  OP- 
POSED BY  A  PARTY — exercising  our  judgment  only 


PREFACE 

with  a  view  to  determine  whether  it  is  beneficial, 
or  prejudicial,  to  the  United  Kingdom. 

Unequivocal  proof  has  been  supplied  us  that 
we  have,  at  least  to  some  extent,  succeeded  in  the 
attainment  of  our  leading  object — to  direct  pub- 
lic attention  to  Ireland,  and  to  induce  visitors  to 
examine  it  for  themselves.  We  repeat,  there  is 
no  country  in  the  world  so  safe  or  so  pleasant  for 
strangers;  while  so  abundant  is  the  recompense 
of  enjoyment  it  can  supply,  that  for  every  new 
visitor  it  receives,  it  will  obtain  a  new  friend. 

We  shall  continue  the  Work  with  the  same 
anxiety  to  make  Ireland  more  advantageously 
known  to  England — that  the  tie  which  unites 
them  may  be  more  closely  knit,  and  that  the  peo- 
ple of  both  countries  may  think,  feel,  and  act,  as 
ONE  PEOPLE.  Under  no  other  circumstances  can 
the  prosperity  and  happiness  of  either  be  essen- 
tially, or  extensively,  advanced. 

THE  ROSEBT,  OLD  BROMPTON. 


EEPRINTED  FROM  THE  AUTHORS    PREFACE  IN 
ORIGINAL  EDITION 

THIS  work  is  the  result  of  an  early  acquaint- 
ance with  Ireland  and  its  people ;  and  of  five  sev- 
eral Tours  made  by  the  writers,  together,  subse- 
quent to  the  year  1825.  They  did  not,  therefore, 
consider  it  desirable  to  pursue  any  specified  route, 
but  aimed,  rather,  to  give  their  general  views  of 
the  condition  and  character  of  Ireland,  as  aris- 
ing out  of  the  various  opportunities  they  had, 
from  time  to  time,  for  forming  opinions.  As 
some  attention  to  ORDER  was,  however,  indispen- 
sable, they  decided  to  divide  the  work  into  Coun- 
ties, describing  the  more  peculiar  characteristics 
of  each. 

They  undertook  the  task  with  a  full  conscious- 
ness of  the  difficulties  they  had  to  encounter — 
difficulties  that  could  be  partially  overcome  only 
by  a  fixed  determination  in  no  instance  to  consult 
the  wishes  or  intentions  of  any  party ;  and  a  firm 
adherence  to  that  honesty  of  purpose  which  can 
alone  create  confidence  and  produce  success. 
Their  great  object  was  to  promote  the  welfare  of 
Ireland — but  not  by  a  sacrifice  of  truth;  and 
their  earnest  hope  is,  that  they  may  give  effect  to 
the  care  and  consideration  manifested,  of  late 
years,  by  England  towards  Ireland,  which  can- 
not fail  to  increase  the  prosperity  and  happiness 


AUTHORS'  PREFACE 

of  both  countries — their  interests  being  mutual 
and  inseparable. 

It  cannot  be  questioned  that  a  decided  im- 
provement has  taken  place  among  all  classes 
throughout  Ireland — referable  to  causes  upon 
which  it  will  be  the  authors'  duty  to  comment. 
Neither  can  it  be  doubted,  that  English  capital- 
ists consider  Ireland  a  vast  field  in  which  judi- 
cious labour  may  be  assured  a  profitable  harvest ; 
the  barriers,  which  have  heretofore  obstructed  the 
in-flow  of  their  wealth,  are  giving  way  before  the 
advancing  spirit  of  the  age ;  and  it  may  be  safely 
predicted,  that  its  great  natural  resources  will  be, 
ere  long,  made  more  largely  available  to  the  com- 
mercial, the  agricultural,  and  the  manufacturing 
interests  of  the  United  Kingdom. 

Many  valuable  and  important  works,  descrip- 
tive of  Ireland,  already  exist,  but  they  are,  for 
the  most  part,  local  histories,  which  present  so 
few  attractions  to  the  general  reader,  that  they 
contribute  little  to  increase  intimacy  between  Ire- 
land and  England,  or  to  establish  that  good 
understanding  so  essential  to  their  well-being  and 
well-doing.  The  proprietors  of  this  publication, 
therefore,  consider  there  was  not  only  room  for 
it,  but  that  it  was  required  by  the  public.  The 
authors  laboured  with  zeal  and  industry  to  obtain 
such  topographical  and  statistical  information  as 
might  be  useful  to  those  who  visit  Ireland,  or  who 
desired  the  means  of  judging  correctly  as  to  its 
capabilities  and  condition.  But  their  especial 
duty  was  to  associate  with  more  important  de- 
tails, such  incidents,  descriptions,  legends,  tradi- 


AUTHORS'  PREFACE 

tions,  and  personal  sketches,  as  might  serve  to 
excite  interest  in  those  who  are  deterred  from  the 
perusal  of  mere  facts,  if  communicated  in  a  less 
popular  form.  Independently  of  their  own  ac- 
tual observation  and  experience,  they  had  the  aid 
of  many  who  have  continually  employed  the  pen 
or  pencil — or  both — in  collecting  and  preserving 
records,  that  serve  to  throw  light  on  the  state  of 
the  country,  and  the  character  of  its  people ;  and 
the  co-operation  of  others  who  were  interested, 
with  them,  in  making  Ireland  more  advanta- 
geously known  to  England,  and  who  had  confi- 
dence in  their  competency  for  the  due  discharge 
of  their  important  task. 

The  Towers,  the  Castles,  and  the  remains  of 
Monastic  Edifices,  are  described,  in  the  page  that 
relates  the  more  remarkable  events  in  their  sev- 
eral histories,  and  contrasts  their  present  ruins 
with  their  former  greatness.  The  Manners  and 
Customs  of  the  Irish  also  afforded  ample  scope 
from  which  to  draw  both  entertainment  and 
information; — the  Baalfire  meetings  on  Mid- 
summer Eve;  the  patrons;  the  courtships;  the 
weddings;  the  christenings;  the  wakes;  the  pil- 
grimages to  holy  wells ;  the  sports  on  All-Hallow 
Eve,  and  the  observances  on  Christmas;  the  pe- 
culiar dances  and  the  music  of  the  peasantry ;  the 
musical  instruments,  ancient  and  modern;  the 
faction  fights  (now,  happily,  but  shadows  of 
what  they  were) ;  and  many  other  national  points, 
usages,  and  ceremonies,  supplied  material  for  the 
pencil  of  the  Artist,  as  well  as  the  pen  of  the 
Writer.  The  Legends  and  Traditions  of  Ire- 


AUTHORS'  PREFACE 

land  are  full  of  interest ;  and  its  superstitions  are 
rich  in  romance.  It  is,  indeed,  rare  to  pass  a 
single  mile,  without  encountering  an  object  to 
which  some  marvellous  fiction  is  attached. 
Every  lake,  mountain,  ruin  of  church  or  castle, 
rath  and  boreen,  has  its  legendary  tale ;  the  Fair- 
ies people  every  wild  spot;  the  Banshee  is  the 
follower  of  every  old  family;  Phookas  and  Cluri- 
caunes  are — if  not  to  be  seen — to  be  heard  of  in 
every  solitary  glen.  These  stories  the  Authors 
collected  in  their  way;  and  not  as  gleaners 
merely;  for  the  harvest,  notwithstanding  that  so 
many  labourers  have  been  in  the  field,  was  but 
partially  gathered  in. 

THE  ROSERY,  OLD  BHOMPTON. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CORK 1 

CAKLOW    ,  .   238 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

St.  Patrick's  Bridge  (See  page  29)    .      .   Frontispiece 

Map  of  Ireland 1 

Queenstown  and  Cork  Harbour 6 

Cork £6 

Plate  Number  One 31 

Salmon  Fishing,  in  Ireland 34 

St.  Mary's  Cathedral,  Cork  City 44 

Queen's  College,  Cork 54 

Plate  Number  Two 67 

Blarney  Castle 76 

Blackrock    Castle 85 

Wild  Rhododendrons 96 

Killery  Bay 116 

Plate  Number  Three 131 

The  River  Lee 150 

Macroom  Castle 167 

Lord  Bantry's  Lodge,  Glengarriff 184 

Plate  Number  Four 208 

Bantry  Bay 234 

Meenaune   Cliffs,  Achill 260 


IRELAND, 

ITS  HISTORY,  SCENERY 
AND  CHARACTER 

CORK 

A  voyage  to  Ireland  is,  at  present,  very 
different  from  what  it  was,  within  our  memory, 
before  the  application  of  steam  had  made  its  du- 
ration a  matter  of  certainty,  and  enabled  the 
traveller  to  calculate  without  reference  to  wind  or 
tide.  "  The  sailing-packet  "  was  a  small  trader 
— schooner,  or  sloop;  the  cabin,  of  very  limited 
extent,  was  lined  with  "  berths;  "  a  curtain  por- 
tioned off  those  that  were  appropriated  to  la- 
dies. In  the  centre  was  a  table — seldom  used, 
the  formality  of  a  dinner  being  a  rare  event; 
each  passenger  having  laid  in  his  own  supply  of 
"  sea  store,"  to  which  he  resorted  when  hun- 
gered or  athirst;  finding,  however,  very  often, 
when  his  appetite  returned,  that  his  basket  had 
been  impoverished  by  the  visits  of  unscrupulous 
voyagers  who  were  proof  against  sea-sickness. 
The  steward  was  almost  invariably  an  awkward 
boy,  whose  only  recommendation  was  the  activ- 
ity with  which  he  answered  the  calls  of  unhappy 
sufferers;  and  the  voyage  across  was  a  kind  of 
purgatory  for  the  time  being,  to  be  endured  only 

1 


2  IRELAND 

in  cases  of  absolute  necessity.  It  was  not  alone 
the  miserable  paucity  of  accommodation  and 
utter  indifference  to  the  comfort  of  the  passen- 
gers, that  made  the  voyage  an  intolerable  evil. 
Though  it  usually  occupied  but  three  or  four 
days,  frequently  as  many  weeks  were  expended 
in  making  it.  It  was  once  our  lot  to  pass  a 
month  between  the  ports  of  Bristol  and  Cork; 
putting  back,  every  now  and  then,  to  the 
wretched  village  of  Plil  and  not  daring  to  leave 
it  even  for  an  hour,  lest  the  wind  should  change 
and  the  packet  weigh  anchor.  But  with  us  it 
was  "  holiday  time,"  and  our  case  was  far  less 
dismal  than  that  of  an  officer  to  whom  we  re- 
cently related  it;  his  two  months'  leave  of  ab- 
sence had  expired  the  very  day  he  reached  his 
Irish  home. 

Under  such  circumstances,  it  is  not  surprising 
that  comparatively  little  intercourse  existed  be- 
tween the  two  countries,  or  that  England  and 
Ireland  were  almost  as  much  strangers  to  each 
other  as  if  the  channel  that  divided  them  had 
been  actually  impassable. 

The  introduction  of  steam  has  made  them,  as 
it  were,  one  island;  the  voyage  now,  either  from 
Liverpool  to  Dublin,  or  from  Bristol  to  Water- 
ford  or  Cork,  is  far  more  comfortable  and  less 
fatiguing  than  a  journey  to  York;  the  natural 
effect  has  been,  that  prejudices  and  popular  er- 
rors are  passing  away  from  both  countries,  that 
a  more  just  and  rational  estimate  has  been 
formed  by  the  one  of  the  other,  and  that  a  union, 
based  on  mutual  interests,  is  rapidly  cement- 


CORK  3 

ing.  The  insane  attempts  to  procure  "  Re- 
peal "  may  retard,  for  a  time,  a  consummation 
for  which  every  upright  British  subject  must 
devoutly  wish;  but  a  growing  intelligence  and 
an  increasing  intimacy  are  barriers  which  the  ad- 
vocates of  the  measure  will  vainly  endeavour  to 
break  down.  It  is  our  intention  to  avoid,  as  far 
as  possible,  all  irritating  and  party  topics;  but 
it  will  be  our  duty  to  consider  England  and  Ire- 
land as  one  country — to  draw  more  closely  the 
ties  that  unite  them,  and  to  condemn,  as  the  most 
mischievous  of  all  projects,  that  which  either 
contemplates  or  leads  to  separation — the  inev- 
itable consequence  of  a  repeal  of  the  Union. 
Upon  this  subject,  therefore,  we  may  feel  bound, 
hereafter,  to  submit  to  our  readers  the  results  of 
our  observation  and  experience. 

The  steam-boats  that  ply  between  the  two 
countries  have,  in  fact,  facilitated  intercourse 
almost  as  much  as  a  bridge  across  St.  George's 
Channel  would  have  done.  The  elegance  with 
which  they  are  fitted  up,  the  moderate  fares,  and 
the  attention  to  comfort,  in  all  respects,  have 
made  the  journey  from  England  to  Ireland  an 
excursion  of  pleasure,  instead  of  a  weary,  dan- 
gerous, prolonged,  and  expensive  voyage.  But 
they  have  produced  advantages  of  far  greater 
import;  inasmuch  as  they  have  largely  contrib- 
uted to  develop  and  increase  the  resources  of  the 
country,  and  to  improve  the  moral  and  social 
condition  of  the  people.  Sixteen  years  ago,  the 
St.  George  Steam  Company  established  packets 
between  the  port  of  Cork  and  the  ports  of  Dub- 


4  IRELAND 

lin,  Liverpool,  and  Bristol,  and,  more  recently, 
of  London.  The  value  of  the  poor  man's  prop- 
erty immediately  augmented;  previously,  he  was 
at  the  mercy  of  agents  who  purchased  his  pro- 
duce at  fairs,  compelling  him  to  sell  at  the  prices 
they  dictated,  or  to  return  with  it,  in  many  in- 
stances a  distance  of  twenty  miles.  The  old 
saying  that  "  the  pig  paid  the  rent  "  was  literally 
true;  and  the  fair-day  was  always  the  rent-day. 
Now,  he  is,  himself,  very  frequently,  the  export 
merchant,  and  accompanies  to  England  his  half 
score  of  pigs,  his  crate  of  fowl,  or  his  hamper  of 
eggs.  Hence  he  obtains  a  knowledge  of  men 
and  manners:  naturally  shrewd  and  inquisitive, 
he  looks  around  him  as  he  travels  along;  his 
curiosity  is  excited;  he  inquires  and  examines, 
and  takes  back  with  him  notions  of  improvement 
and  of  the  profit  to  be  derived  therefrom,  which 
he  not  only  turns  to  account,  but  disseminates 
among  his  neighbours.1  As  will  therefore  be 
expected,  a  material  change  for  the  better  has 
taken  place  throughout  Ireland — perceptible 
even  in  the  remotest  districts,  but  very  apparent 
in  the  vicinity  of  sea-port  towns.  The  peas- 
antry are  better  clad  than  they  formerly  were, 
their  cottages  much  more  decent,  their  habits  far 
less  uncivilized.  The  very  lowest  class,  perhaps, 
has  not  yet  felt  the  full  benefit  of  this  movement, 
but  every  grade  above  that  class  has  essentially 
advanced;  in  all  respects  the  people  of  Ireland 
are  gradually  but  certainly  assimilating  with  the 
people  of  England. 

Undoubtedly  this  most  beneficial  change  may 


CORK  5 

be  dated  from  the  introduction  of  steam  into  com- 
merce ;  but  it  has  been  greatly  promoted  by  other 
circumstances  upon  which  we  shall  have  to  com- 
ment. In  the  year  1838  we  made  a  tour  in  Ire- 
land, and  in  1840  another.  The  improvement, 
within  these  two  years,  was  so  extraordinary  as 
almost  to  exceed  belief:  during  our  previous 
visits,  we  noted  comparatively  little  alteration  in 
the  external  aspect  of  the  country  or  in  the  con- 
dition of  its  people,  from  what  we  had  known 
them  twenty  years  ago ;  but,  of  late,  the  "  move 
forward  "  has  been  wonderful;  and  if  the  future 
progress  be  in  proportion,  the  serviceable  results 
to  the  country  cannot  be  estimated  at  too  high  a 
rate. 

Hitherto,  however,  although  steam  has  so 
largely  aided  in  inducing  visits  from  Ireland  to 
England,  visitors  to  Ireland  from  England  have 
not,  in  the  same  ratio,  increased.  Happily, 
many  of  the  causes  that  produced  this  evil  exist 
no  longer,  and  others  are  rapidly  disappearing. 
It  will  be  our  leading  object  in  this  publication 
to  induce  the  English  to  see  and  judge  for  them- 
selves, and  not  to  incur  the  reproach  of  being 
better  acquainted  with  the  Continent  than  they 
are  with  a  country  in  which  they  cannot  fail  to 
be  deeply  interested,  and  which  holds  out  to  them 
every  temptation  the  traveller  can  need — a  peo- 
ple rich  in  original  character,  scenery  abundant 
in  the  wild  and  beautiful,  a  cordial  and  hearty 
welcome  for  the  stranger,  and  a  degree  of  safety 
and  security  in  his  journeyings,  such  as  he  can 
meet  in  no  other  portion  of  the  globe.  In  all 


€  IRELAND 

our  tours,  we  not  only  never  encountered  the 
slightest  stay  or  insult,  but  never  heard  of  a  trav- 
eller who  had  been  subjected  to  either;  and  al- 
though sufficiently  heedless  in  the  business  of 
locking  up  "  boxes  "  at  inns,  in  no  instance  did 
we  ever  sustain  a  loss  by  our  carelessness.  We 
may  add,  that  travelling  in  Ireland  and  the 
charges  connected  with  it  are  so  moderate,  that 
a  month  at  Killarney  shall  cost  less,  the  journey 
from  London  included,  than  would  be  expended, 
during  the  same  time,  at  Ramsgate  or  Chelten- 
ham. 

The  usual  routes  to  Ireland  are  either  from 
Bristol  to  Cork  or  Waterford,  or  from  Liverpool 
to  Dublin.  The  voyage  across  occupies,  gener- 
ally, to  Cork  twenty-four  hours,  to  Waterford 
twenty  hours,  and  from  Liverpool  to  Dublin 
twelve  hours;  although  it  is  frequently  made  in 
much  less  time.  The  shortest  sea-passage  is  be- 
tween Holyhead  and  Dublin,  which  is  usually 
made  in  six  hours. 

Our  work  commences  with  Cork. 

The  distant  appearance  of  Cork  harbour,  from 
the  seaward  approach,  is  gloomy,  rocky,  and  in- 
hospitable; but  as  its  entrance  between  two  bold 
headlands — scarcely  half  a  mile  apart  and 
crowned  by  fortifications — opens  upon  the  view, 
its  character  undergoes  a  complete  change.  The 
town  of  Cove,  with  the  island  of  Spike,  forming 
a  sort  of  natural  breakwater,  and  several  smaller 
islands,  give  variety  and  interest  to  a  noble  ex- 
panse of  sea,  that  spreads  out,  like  a  luxuriant 
lake,  to  welcome  and  rejoice  the  visitor;  its 


CORK  7 

sparkling  billows  heaving  and  tumbling  in  sport- 
ive mimicry  of  the  wild  and  wide  ocean  without. 
The  harbour  is  one  of  the  most  secure,  capacious, 
and  beautiful  of  the  kingdom,  and  is  said  to  be 
large  enough  to  contain  the  whole  navy  of  Great 
Britain.  It  is  diversified  by  other  islands  be- 
sides that  of  Spike;  one  of  which,  Haulbowlin, 
is  the  depot  for  naval  stores. 

Another,  "  Rocky  Island,"  is  the  government 
depot  for  gunpowder ;  the  store-rooms  are  excava- 
ted in  the  solid  rock,  and  communicate  with  each 
other  by  apertures  in  the  sides.  Passing  Monks- 
town  and  Passage,  two  pretty  and  picturesque 
villages,  which,  together  with  the  town  of  Cove, 
we  shall  presently  describe,  the  vessel  proceeds 
from  the  latter  place,  a  distance  of  ten  miles,  to 
the  Quay  of  Cork.  To  do  full  justice  to  the 
exceeding  beauty  of  the  river  Lee  is  impossible. 
On  either  side,  immediately  after  passing  the 
harbour's  mouth,  numberless  attractive  objects, 
in  succession,  greet  the  eye ;  and  the  wild  and  the 
cultivated  are  so  happily  mingled,  that  it  would 
seem  as  if  the  hand  of  taste  had  been  every- 
where employed,  skilfully,  to  direct  and  improve 
nature.  Moore  during  one  of  his  visits  called  it, 
"  the  noble  sea  avenue  to  Cork;  "  and  an  East- 
ern traveller,  with  whom  we  journeyed,  observed 
that  "  a  few  minarets  placed  in  its  hanging  gar- 
dens would  realize  the  Bosphorus."  As  we  pro- 
ceed along,  the  land  seems  always  around  us ;  and 
from  its  mouth  to  the  city  quays,  the  river,  in  its 
perpetual  changes,  appears  a  series  of  lakes, 
from  which  there  is  no  passage  except  over  one 


8  IRELAND 

of  the  surrounding  hills.  These  hills  are  clad, 
from  the  summit  to  the  water's  edge,  with  every 
variety  of  foliage ;  graceful  villas  and  ornamental 
cottages  are  scattered  among  them  in  profusion, 
and  here  and  there  some  ancient  ruin  recalls  a 
story  of  the  past.  A  sail  from  Cork  to  Cove 
is  one  of  the  rarest  and  richest  treats  the  island 
can  supply,  and  might  justify  a  description  that 
would  seem  akin  to  hyperbole.  It  is,  therefore, 
not  surprising,  considering  also  the  cheapness 
and  rapidity  of  the  passage  to  and  fro,  that  a 
vast  proportion  of  the  citizens  have  dwellings, 
magnificent  or  moderate,  according  to  their 
means,  along  the  banks  of  their  glorious  and 
beautiful  river ;  although  it  is  to  be  lamented  that 
its  attractions  too  generally  wile  them  from  busi- 
ness, and  keep  them  at  "  the  receipt  of  custom  " 
but  for  a  few  hours  of  the  day. 

The  moment  the  voyager  lands,  he  is  im- 
pressed with  a  conviction  that  the  natural  ad- 
vantages of  Cork  have  been  turned  to  good  ac- 
count. There  is  bustle  on  the  quays;  carriages 
and  carts  of  all  classes  are  waiting  to  convey 
passengers  or  merchandize  to  their  destination; 
and  an  air  of  prosperity  cheers  him  as  he  dis- 
embarks. 

Unhappily,  however,  the  first  peculiarity  that 
strikes  a  stranger  on  landing  here,  or,  indeed,  in 
any  part  of  Ireland,  is  the  multiplicity  of  beg- 
gars. Their  wit  and  humour  are  as  proverbial 
as  their  rags  and  wretchedness;  and  both  too 
frequently  excite  a  laugh,  at  the  cost  of  serious 
reflection  upon  their  misery  and  the  means  by 


CORK  9 

which  it  may  be  lessened.  Every  town  is  full  of 
objects,  who  parade  their  afflictions  with  osten- 
tation, or  exhibit  their  half -naked  children,  as  so 
many  claims  to  alms  as  a  right.  Age,  decrepi- 
tude, imbecility,  and  disease,  surround  the  car 
the  moment  it  stops,  or  block  up  the  shop-doors, 
so  as,  for  a  time,  effectually  to  prevent  either 
entrance  or  exit.  In  the  small  town  of  Mac- 
room,  about  which  we  walked  one  evening,  desir- 
ing to  examine  it  undisturbed,  we  had  refused, 
in  positive  terms,  to  relieve  any  applicant ;  prom- 
ising, however,  the  next  morning,  to  bestow  a 
halfpenny  each  upon  all  who  might  ask  it.  The 
news  spread,  and  no  beggars  intruded  themselves 
on  our  notice  for  that  night.  Next  day,  it  cost 
us  exactly  three  shillings  and  tenpence  to  re- 
deem the  pledge  we  had  given;  no  fewer  than 
ninty-two  having  assembled  at  the  inn  gate. 
We  encountered  them,  nearly  in  the  same  pro- 
portion, in  every  town  through  which  we  passed. 
It  is  vain  to  plead  inability  to  relieve  them; 
if  you  have  no  halfpence  the  answer  is  ready, 
"  Ah,  but  well  divide  a  little  sixpence  between 
us ;  "  and  then  comes  the  squabble  as  to  which 
of  the  group  shall  be  made  agent  for  the  rest. 
Every  imaginable  mode  of  obtaining  a  gratuity 
is  resorted  to;  distorted  limbs  are  exposed,  rags 
are  studiously  displayed,  and,  almost  invariably, 
a  half  idiot,  with  his  frightful  glare  and  para- 
lysed voice,  is  foremost  among  them.  The  lan- 
guage in  which  they  frame  their  petitions  is  al- 
ways pointed,  forcible,  and,  generally,  highly 
poetic: — "  Good  luck  to  your  ladyship's  happy 


10  IRELAND 

face  this  morning — sure  ye'll  lave  the  light  heart 
in  my  bussom  before  ye  go?  " — "  Oh,  then,  look 
at  the  poor  that  can't  look  at  you,  my  lady;  the 
dark  man  that  can't  see  if  yer  beauty  is  like  yer 
sweet  voice;" — "Darling  gintleman,  the  heav- 
ens be  yer  bed,  and  give  us  something;  " — "  Oh, 
the  blessing  of  the  widdy  and  five  small  children, 
that's  waiting  for  yer  honour's  bounty,  'ill  be 
wid  ye  on  the  road;  " — "  Oh,  help  the  poor 
craythur  that's  got  no  childer  to  show  yer  honour 
— they're  down  in  the  sickness,  and  the  man  that 
owns  them  at  sea ;  " — "  Oh,  then,  won't  yer  lady- 
ship buy  a  dying  woman's  prayers — chape? " — 
"They're  keeping  me  back  from  the  penny  you're 
going  to  give  me,  lady  dear,  because  I'm  wake  in 
myself,  and  the  heart's  broke  wid  the  hunger." 
Such  are  a  few  of  the  sentences  we  gathered  from 
the  groups;  we  might  fill  pages  with  similar  ex- 
amples of  ingenious  and  eloquent  appeals. 

A  beggar,  on  receiving  a  refusal  from  a  Poor 
Law  commissioner,  addressed  him  with  "  Ah, 
then;  it's  little  business  you'd  have  only  for  the 
likes  of  us ;  "  another,  vainly  soliciting  charity 
from  a  gentleman  with  red  hair,  thrust  forward 
her  child,  with  "  And  won't  ye  give  a  ha'penny 
to  the  little  boy? — sure  he's  foxy  like  yer  honour." 
"  You've  lost  all  your  teeth,"  was  said  to  one  of 
them. — "  Time  for  me  to  lose  'em  when  I'd  noth- 
ing for  'em  to  do,"  was  the  reply.  Some  time 
ago,  we  were  travelling  in  a  stage-coach,  and  at 
Naas,  where  it  has  been  said  "  the  native  beggars 
double  the  population  of  the  town,"  a  person 
inside  told  a  troublesome  and  persevering  ap- 


CORK  11 

plicant,    very    coarsely,    to   go   to   .     The 

woman  turned  up  her  eyes,  and  said,  with  in- 
imitable humour,  "  Ah,  then  it's  a  long  journey 
yer  honour's  sending  us;  maybe  yer  honour'll 
give  us  something  to  pay  our  expenses."  We 
saw,  in  Waterford,  a  gentleman  angrily  repulse 
a  beggar,  with  a  call  to  his  servant  to  shut  the 
door;  and  an  odd  soliloquy  followed:  the  woman 
Jialf  murmured  and  half  hissed,  "  Shut  the  door ; 
and  that's  it,  is  it?  Oh,  then,  that's  what  I'll  be 
saying  to  you  when  ye  want  to  pass  through  the 
gate  of  heaven.  It's  then  I'll  be  saying  to  St. 
Peter,  Shut  the  door,  St.  Peter,  says  I,  to  a  dirty 
nagur,  that  'ud  disgrace  the  place  intirely,  says 
I — and  ye'll  be  axing  me  to  let  ye  in;  the  never 
a  fut,  says  I — shut  the  door,  says  I;  shut  the 
door!  Ould  go-by- the-ground  (the  person  who 
had  excited  her  wrath  was  of  diminutive  stature ) , 
what'll  ye  say  then?  "  "  May  the  spotted  fever 
split  ye  in  four  halves ! "  was  a  curse  uttered  by 
a  beggar  who  had  been  rejected  somewhat 
roughly.  "  Foxy-head,  foxy-head,"  was  called 
out  by  one  as  a  reproach  to  another ;  "  That  ye 
may  never  see  the  dyer !  "  was  the  instant  answer. 
Our  purse  having  been  exhausted,  we  had  been 
deaf  to  the  prayer  of  one  who  was  covered  so 
meagrely  as  scarcely  to  be  described  as  clad :  she 
turned  away  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  mur- 
muring, "  Well,  God  be  praised,  it's  fine  sum- 
mer clothing  we  have,  any  way."  Once — it  was 
at  Macroom,  of  which  we  have  particularly 
spoken — among  a  group  we  noted  a  fair-haired 
girl.  We  have  seen  many  such,  along  every  road 


12  IRELAND 

we  travelled.  Perfect  in  form  as  a  Grecian 
statue,  and  graceful  as  a  young  fawn.  The  hood 
of  her  cloak  shrouded  each  side  of  her  face;  and 
the  folds  draped  her  slender  figure  as  if  the  nicest 
art  had  been  exerted  in  aid  of  nature.  There 
was  something  so  sad,  so  shy,  and  yet  so  earnest, 
in  her  entreaty  for  "  charity,  for  the  love  of  God," 
that  we  should  have  at  once  bestowed  it,  had  not 
a  thin,  pallid  woman,  whose  manner  was  evi- 
dently superior  to  those  around  her,  and  whose 
"  tatters  "  bore  a  character  of  "  old  decency," 
made  her  way  through  the  crowd,  and,  strug- 
gling with  excited  feelings,  forced  the  girl  from 
our  side.  Curious  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  this 
interference,  we  followed  them  and  learned  it. 
"  My  name's  MacSweeny,"  said  the  woman 
somewhat  proudly,  after  a  few  preliminary 
questions,  "  and  I  am  a  lone  widow,  with  five  of 
these  craythurs  depending  on  my  four  bones. 
God  knows  'tis  hard  I  work  for  the  bit  and  the 
sup  to  give  them;  and  'tis  poor  we  are  and  al- 
ways have  been;  but  none  of  my  family  ever 
took  to  the  road  or  begged  from  any  Christian 
— till  this  bad  girleen  disgraced  them."  The 
mother  was  sobbing  like  a  child,  and  so  was  her 
"  girleen."  "  Mother,"  said  the  girl,  "  sure  little 
Timsy  was  hungry,  and  the  gentleman  wouldn't 
miss  it."  Our  car  was  waiting;  we  had  far  to 
go  that  day,  and  we  were  compelled  to  leave  the 
cabin  without  hearing  what,  we  are  sure,  must 
have  been  a  touching  story ;  but  we  left  the  widow 
less  heart-broken  than  we  found  her.  As  a  con- 
trast to  this,  let  us  relate  an  incident  that  occurred 


CORK  13 

in  Cork,  where,  by  the  way,  the  beggars  seldom 
appear  in  public  until  nearly  mid-day.,  We 
were  sitting  at  the  window  of  our  hotel  ("the 
Imperial,"  which  for  elegance  and  comfort  may 
vie  with  any  hotel  of  the  kingdom)  ;  our  atten- 
tion had  been  frequently  called  from  the  book 
we  were  reading,  by  the  querulous  whine  of  a 
beggar,  who  uttered  at  intervals,  not  far  between, 
the  customary  salutation  of  "  Good  luck  to  ye," 
and  the  usual  accompaniment  of  "  Lave  us  a  ha'- 
penny for  God's  sake;  for  the  lone  widdy  and 
her  five  fatherless  childer."  As  we  had  heard 
but  few  blessings  follow  the  appeal,  we  concluded 
that  her  efforts  were  unsuccessful;  the  more 
especially  as  at  times  her  prayer  ended  with  an 
undefined  growl  that  sounded  very  like  its  op- 
posite. Still  she  kept  her  position,  directly 
beneath  our  window.  We  had  seen  her  there  in 
the  morning;  her  tattered  grey  cloak  falling 
back  from  her  long  lean  throat;  her  dirty  cap  so 
torn  as  to  be  insufficient  to  conceal  her  tangled 
tresses;  her  right  hand  supported  by  her  left,  so 
as  to  stand  out  in  the  most  imploring  posture; 
while  she  lolled  first  on  one  side,  then  on  the 
other,  sometimes  balanced  on  her  right,  then  on 
her  left,  foot — the  sad  picture  of  confirmed  and 
hardened  beggary.  As  the  evening  was  closing 
in,  we  were  calculating  how  much  longer  she 
would  remain  in  the  same  spot,  when  a  very  loud 
double  knock  echoed  from  the  opposite  side  of 
the  street,  followed  almost  immediately  by  the 
woman's  strenuously  repeated  petition,  with  the 
addition  of  "  Do,  dear,  honourable,  handsome 


14  IRELAND 

young  gintleman,  bestow  a  halfpenny  on  a  poop 
lone  widdy,  with  seven  small  starvin'  little  childer, 
that  haven't  broke  their  fast  this  blessed  day." 

We  looked  out  of  the  window  and  saw  she  had 
crossed  over,  and  was  urging  her  request  most 
emphatically,  while  the  young  man  thundered 
again  at  the  knocker.  "  Why  thin,  more  power 
to  yer  elbow,  and  it's  yerself  that's  strong  enough 
in  the  wrist  anyhow.  God  keep  it  to  ye,  sir,  and 
lave  the  little  token  of  a  halfpenny  with  the  lone 
widdy  and  her  seven  fatherless  childer."  "  I 
really  have  not  any  silver  about  me,"  drawled 
out  the  young  man.  "  Bedad,"  replied  the  beg- 
gar, "  I  did  not  ax  ye  for  silver  nor  goold,  but 
for  one  halfpenny  for  the  broken-hearted  widdy 
and  her  poor  little  naked  fatherless  childer." 
"  I  tell  ye  I've  no  halfpence,"  he  replied,  losing 
what  people  should  never  lose  in  Ireland,  seeing 
that  the  loss  is  taken  immediate  advantage  of — 
his  temper.  '  Why,  thin,  bad  luck  to  ye,"  she 
exclaimed,  setting  both  her  arms  a-kimbo  and 
looking  a  fury — while  the  impatient  youth 
knocked  more  loudly;  "then  what  the  dickens 
did  ye  bring  me  from  my  comfortable  sate  across 
the  street,  wid  such  a  knock  as  that  for,  if  ye 
hadn't  money  in  yer  pocket — ye  poor,  half- 
starved,  whey-faced  gossoon? " 

The  beggars  in  the  various  towns  have  their 
distinctive  characters,  and  they  differ  essentially 
from  those  who  beg  in  the  country.  In  the 
towns  it  is  usually  a  "profession;"  the  same 
faces  are  always  encountered  in  the  same  places; 
and  they  are  very  jealous  of  interlopers,  unless 


CORK  15 

good  cause  be  shown  for  additions  to  "  the  craft." 
In  Dublin  they  are  exceedingly  insolent  and  re- 
pulsive ;  in  Cork,  merry  and  good-humoured,  but 
most  provokingly  clamorous;  in  Waterford, 
their  petitions  were  preferred  more  by  looks  than 
words,  and  a  refusal  was  at  once  taken;  in 
Clonmel — we  were  there  during  a  season  of 
frightful  want — they  appeared  too  thoroughly 
depressed  and  heart-broken  to  utter  even  a  sen- 
tence of  appeal ; 2  in  Killarney  they  seemed 
trusting  to  their  utter  wretchedness  and  filth  of 
apparel,  as  a  contrast  to  the  surpassing  grace  and 
beauty  of  nature  all  around  them,  to  extort 
charity  from  the  visitors ;  and  in  Wicklow,  where 
we  encountered  far  fewer  than  we  expected  (al- 
ways excepting  Glendalough),  they  laboured  to 
earn  money  by  tendering  something  like  advice 
as  to  the  route  that  should  be  taken  by  those  who 
were  in  search  of  the  picturesque.  One  had  fol- 
lowed a  friend  of  ours,  to  his  great  annoyance, 
for  upwards  of  a  mile,  and  on  bidding  him  good- 
bye, had  the  modesty  to  ask  for  a  little  sixpence. 
"For  what?"  inquired  the  gentleman;  "what 
have  you  done  for  me?"  "Ah,  then,  sure 
haven't  I  been  keeping  yer  honour  in  discoorse?  " 
In  the  country,  where  passers-by  are  not  nu- 
merous, the  aged  or  bed-ridden  beggar  is  fre- 
quently placed  in  a  sort  of  handbarrow,  and  laid 
at  morning  by  the  road-side,  to  excite  compassion 
and  procure  alms :  not  unf requently  their  business 
is  conducted  on  the  backs  of  donkeys,  and  often 
they  are  drawn  about  by  some  neighbour's  child. 
The  reader  will  naturally  inquire  as  to  the  in- 


16  IRELAND 

fluence  of  the  New  Poor  Law  upon  a  state  of 
things  certainly  without  parallel  in  any  civilized 
country;  to  such  an  inquiry,  however,  we  are,  at 
present,  unable  to  supply  any  answer.  The  act 
is  in  operation  only  in  Dublin  and  Cork;  and  al- 
though architects  are  busy,  in  every  district, 
erecting  "  poor-houses,"  it  would  be  premature 
to  offer  an  opinion  as  to  its  practical  working. 
Before  our  task  is  finished  we  shall  have  had 
abundant  opportunities  for  arriving  at  some 
definite  conclusion  in  reference  to  a  matter  of  such 
vital  importance.  It  was  unquestionably  a  mon- 
strous evil — that  which  left  the  aged,  incompe- 
tent, and  diseased,  altogether  to  private  charity; 
for,  although  charity  is  a  fountain  that,  in  Ire- 
land, is  never  dry,  the  supply  was  insufficient  and 
unwholesome,  taxing  largely  the  generous  and 
humane,  but  levying  no  impost  upon  the  selfish 
or  indifferent. 

It  will  be  readily  believed  that,  if  a  large  pro- 
portion of  the  class  consists  of  the  idle,  reckless, 
or  unprincipled,  the  number  of  those  who  really 
want  is  by  no  means  small :  among  a  people  very 
improvident,  and  living  "  from  hand  to  mouth,'* 
a  small  deviation  from  the  usual  course  of  labour 
brings  absolute  destitution,  and  suggests  the 
only  mode,  within  reach,  of  continuing  existence. 
Whole  families  are  frequently  met  who  have 
"  taken  to  the  road  " — a  phrase  which  denotes 
beggary  as  a  business;  the  potato  garden  has 
been  bared;  the  man  is  seeking  labour  at  a  dis- 
tance from  his  home — perhaps  in  England;  the 
cabin  door  has  been  closed ;  and  the  woman  with 


CORK  17 

her  children  are  travelling  from  village  to  village, 
asking,  and  invariably  receiving,  aid  "  for  the 
love  of  God  "  from  the  "  good  Christians."  We 
might  relate  scores  of  strongly  characteristic  and 
not  uninteresting  anecdotes  of  parties  who  have 
thus  fallen  in  our  way;  but  our  readers  will  per- 
mit us  to  tell  one  story,  although  in  so  doing  we 
may  encroach  somewhat  too  largely  upon  the 
space  we  desire,  as  much  as  possible,  to  vary. 

There  is  a  beautiful  terrace  along  the  north 
bank  of  the  Cork  river;  the  gardens  are  so  steep 
that  the  walks  hang,  as  it  were,  one  above  the 
other;  the  houses  stand  on  a  sort  of  platform, 
and  the  hill  at  their  back  is  beautifully  planted 
with  trees  and  evergreens ;  roses  climb  in  the  most 
luxuriant  profusion — and  clematis,  honeysuckle, 
and  various  creeping  plants,  mingle  with  their 
branches.  We  had  been  spending  the  evening 
with  some  friends  whose  exquisite  taste  had  con- 
verted their  hanging  garden  into  a  little  paradise ; 
the  air  was  so  balmy,  and  the  moonbeams  fell 
athwart  the  river  in  such  long  silvery  lines,  that 
we  preferred  walking  to  driving  to  our  hotel. 
While  lingering  in  the  porch,  bidding  our  friends 
adieu,  our  attention  was  arrested  by  the  tones  of 
a  female  voice;  it  was  feeble,  but  very  sweet: 
the  burden  of  the  song  was  that  of  an  old  ballad 
we  had  heard  some  fishermen  sing  on  the  Shan- 
non two  years  ago.  There  was  a  wail  at  the 
termination,  that  seemed  in  harmony  with  the 
faint  voice  which  gave  it  utterance ; — it  was — 

"  And  has  left  me  all  alone  for  to  die." 


18  IRELAND 

We  paused  to  listen;  but  the  strain  was  not  re- 
newed. It  had  made  us  sad;  our  adieus  were 
repeated  in  a  quieter  tone ;  and  as  we  proceeded, 
in  the  calm  moonlight,  we  spoke  of  the  poor 
singer. 

Suddenly  the  melody  was  recommenced;  not 
in  the  same  place,  but  nearer  town,  and  we  had 
lost  sight  of  the  pretty  river-terrace  before  we 
overtook  her.  Our  interest  in  the  ballad  was 
now  changed  to  an  interest  in  the  woman,  for 
her  song  was  interrupted  by  heavy,  yet  sup- 
pressed, sobs.  She  was  leaning  against  the  gate 
of  a  small  house,  trying  to  continue  it:  at  length 
she  sunk  upon  the  steps,  exclaiming,  "  I  can't, 
afther  all,  I  can't."  We  placed  a  coin  of  trifling 
value  in  her  hand. 

"  God  bless  ye — God  bless  ye — "  she  said 
faintly;  "  God  bless  ye,  though  it's  little  good 
this  or  anything  else  can  do  me  now;  God  bless 
you  for  it  anyhow! "  It  is  never  hard  to  open 
an  Irish  heart.  A  few  kind  words,  almost  a  kind 
look,  will  do  it.  "  And  afther  all,"  she  said,  in 
reply  to  our  inquiries,  "  and  afther  all,  my  lady, 
sure  I  sung  it  all  along  the  river  for  practice, 
that  I  might  have  strength  for  it  when  I  got  here ; 
and  now  there  isn't  power  in  me  to  say  a  word, 
though  I  know  there's  one  in  that  house  whose 
heart  would  answer  me,  though  maybe  her  lips 
wouldn't  own  they'd  know  me." 

We  desired  the  poor  creature  to  call  on  us  the 
next  day.  "  I  can't,"  she  replied,  "  lady  honey, 
I  can't;  I'm  almost  as  bare  of  clothes  as  a  new- 
born babe.  Oh  that  my  soul  was  as  bare  of 


CORK  19 

sin!"  It  was  impossible  for  human  words  or 
human  voice  to  convey  the  idea  of  more  acute 
misery  than  was  made  manifest  by  this  sentence ; 
it  sounded  like  the  knell  of  a  broken  heart.  We 
managed,  however,  to  see  her  again,  and  our  in- 
terest in  Mary  Nolan — such  was  her  name — was 
increased  on  finding  that  she  was  the  daughter 
of  a  person  who  had  been  known  to  one  of  us  in 
early  childhood. 

"  I  was  once,"  said  poor  Mary,  "  not  what  I 
am  now:  I  had  a  bright  eye  and  a  mighty  gay 
heart,  and  I  gave  the  light  of  the  one  and  the 
pulse  of  the  other  to  a  boy  of  this  county;  and 
if  I  tell  his  name,  you  won't  brathe  it,  for  it  would 
harrum  her  who  I  thought  might  have  heerd  and 
know  the  song  I  sung,  if  I'd  the  power  to  tune 
it  rightly ;  but  somehow  music  is  like  lead  upon  a 
bosom  like  mine,  it  crushes  it  down  instead  of 
lifting  it  up.  I've  not  much  to  tell:  we  loved 
each  other  well  in  those  days,  so  well,  that  when 
he  was  led  astray  by  many  things  that  war  going 
on  through  the  counthry  at  that  time,  when  he 
used  to  be  meetin'  the  boys  by  night  in  the  Ruins 
of  Kilcrea,  or  maybe  away  in  the  county  Limer- 
ick, by  the  dancin'  waters  of  the  Shannon,  why  I 
thought  it  right,  and  many  a  moonlight  meetin' 
I  gave  him,  and  many  a  gallon  of  whiskey  I 
brought  him  from  the  hills;  and  my  husband  (for 
he  was  my  husband,  and  many  a  one  besides  the 
Priest  knew  he  was)  had  a  fine  voice,  and  often 
we  sung  together,  and  many  a  pleasant  heart  that 
beat  its  last  in  a  far  country,  shook  the  laves  off 
the  trees  with  the  strength  of  fine  music.  Oh! 


20  IRELAND 

we  thought  to  carry  all  before  us.  And  at  other 
times  the  meetins  would  be  silent  as  the  ould 
graves  over  which  we  trod,  until  the  whiskey  they 
took  would  send  them  over  the  counthry  with 
hot  breath  and  burning  eyes;  the  end  came,  and 
soon — but  not  the  end  we  looked  for :  my  husband 
(for  he  Was  my  husband)  staid  on  his  keepin' 
many,  many  weeks,  a  starvin',  wretched  man, 
wild  among  the  mountains,  set  by  the  soldiers  as 
a  dog  sets  a  bird  in  a  field  of  stubble.  I  have 
watched  with  a  dry  potato  and  a  grain  of  salt 
for  him  the  length  of  a  summer  day,  shifting 
about  so  as  to  keep  under  the  shadow  of  a  rock 
to  steal  such  as  that  to  him,  knowing  he  was  dying 
of  hunger  all  the  time,  and  seeing  him  fetch-like 
before  me,  yet  daren't  stretch  out  my  hand 
to  him  with  a  bit  to  eat.  Oh !  it  was  a  wof ul  time, 
but  worse  woe  was  afther  it.  When  men  are  set 
on  to  hunt  each  other  they  have  wonderful  pa- 
tience. 

"  He  was  took  at  last ;  and  three  days  I  sate 
at  the  gate  of  the  ould  jail,  though  they  wouldn't 
let  me  in;  my  throuble  came  upon  me  then,  and 
though  my  heart  was  broke,  my  child  lived;  my 
husband  ( for  he  was  my  husband)  was  sentenced 
to  die ;  I  was  in  the  court-house  and  heard  it,  and 
that  I  can  never  forget;  they  say  I  tore  through 
the  crowd,  that  I  fell  at  the  judge's  feet  and  laid 
my  child  on  his  robe,  that  I  asked  him  to  kill  us 
all,  that  I  told  him  the  witnesses  swore  false,  that 
it  was  the  whiskey  I  brought  him  stirred  him  up, 
and  that  I  had  earned  death  most;  that  I  was 
mad — and  I  do  believe  that  God  heated  my  Drain 


CORK  21 

in  his  mercy,  for  I  do  not  know  what  I  did. 
Many  weeks  after,  I  found  my  poor  old  mother 
sitting  by  my  side  with  my  babby  on  her  knee ;  I 
had  been  an  undutiful  daughter  to  her,  yet  when 
she  heard  of  my  trouble,  she  left  her  comfortable 
home  in  the  west,  and  came  to  seek  her  child. 
Oh!  the  love  of  that  mother's  heart  beat  all! 
She  gave  me  the  babby  to  kiss;  I  would  have 
asked  for  its  father,  but  the  darkness  came  over 
my  eyes  again,  and  no  voice  rose  to  my  lips ;  only 
she  knew  what  I  meant,  and  *  Praise  God,  Mary, 
ma-vourneen,'  she  said, '  praise  Him,  a-vourneen, 
in  yer  heart,  Mary,  for  he's  not  dead,  only  trans- 
ported.' I  spoke  no  word,  but  the  tears  came 
thick  and  fast;  I  felt  my  mother  wiping  them 
off,  and  her  breath  on  my  cheek  like  a  blessing!  " 

Poor  Mary  covered  her  face  with  her  long 
shadowy  hands,  and  I  saw  that  the  memory  of 
her  mother  was  thrilling  at  her  heart. 

"  She  was  a  good  woman,"  she  resumed  after  a 
pause — "the  heavens  be  her  bed! — She  was  an 
honest  industrious  good  woman.  Oh,  if  I  could 
but  think  she'd  welcome  me  to  glory,  I'd  die 
happy;  she  brought  me  up  well,  as  far  as  book- 
reading  went;  but  she  let  me  grow  wilful,  and 
suffered  for  it  in  the  end;  oh!  it's  hard  to  suffer 
for  love,  and  yet  mine  grew  out  of  that.  My 
poor  mother,  when  I  recovered,  wanted  to  take  me 
to  her  own  place,  but  I  could  not  content  myself 
without  my  husband.  I  went  to  every  one  who 
had  the  knowledge  and  power  of  the  counthry, 
and  I  asked  to  be  let  go  out  to  him ;  they  laughed, 
and  said  none  but  criminals  were  sent  there.  I 


22  IRELAND 

had  never  kept  back  my  will  for  any  of  them ;  I 
would  not  do  it  now;  I  forgot  all  my  duties  but 
the  one ;  I  became  a  criminal ;  I  forced  those  who 
had  jeered  to  send  me  out;  and  when  with  my 
babby  still  at  my  breast  (for  they  didn't  part  us, 
as  they  told  me  they  might)  I  got  to  the  end  of 
the  voyage,  I  found  he  was  almost  as  far  away 
from  me  as  ever,  up  the  counthry,  while  I  was  to 
remain  near  the  town.  I  thought  I  should  have 
gone  mad.  I  wrote  to  him;  weeks  and  months 
passed  and  I  had  no  answer.  I  gave  so  much 
satisfaction  to  my  master  that  I  was  left  at  lib- 
erty. After  long  slavery,  I  used  that  liberty  to 
escape  to  him;  I  took  my  girl  with  me;  I  roved 
like  a  wild  animal  through  as  wild  a  counthry, 
but  I  found  him — my  first  love!  the  thought  of 
my  life ;  my  heart's  core,  for  whose  sake  I  had  be- 
come a  thief — I  found  him,  married  to  the  daugh- 
ter of  one  of  the  overseers ;  a  free  man. 

"  At  first  he  pretended  not  to  know  me,  but  I 
had  kept  my  marriage  lines  in  my  bosom,  and 
showed  them  to  him;  he  came  round,  and  prom- 
ised if  I  would  keep  quiet  a  little  he  would 
do  me  justice;  he  said  how  well  he  was  off,  took 
his  child  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  and  blest  it;  I 
saw  him  do  that  much  anyhow;  he  brought  us 
food,  and  made  us  rest  under  a  shade  close  to 
where  he  lived;  he  came  again  that  evening  and 
laid  the  child  on  his  bosom,  and  excused  himself, 
as  he  always  could,  to  me.  And  I  forgot  his 
falsity  when  I  heard  his  voice  and  saw  his  face 
once  more,  though  the  sunshine  of  love  had  left 
it :  he  asked  to  look  at  my  marriage  lines ;  I  gave 


CORK  23 

them  to  him ;  in  an  instant  he  tore  the  paper  into 
scraps ;  I  fell  on  my  knees  and  would  have  cursed 
him,  but  for  my  little  Mary;  she  covered  my 
mouth  with  her  sweet  innocent  face;  I  could  not 
curse  then;  the  power  left  my  limbs;  I  fell  on 
the  floor,  and  he  stood  by  and  offered  me  money, 
and  threatened,  if  I  did  not  go,  to  send  me  back 
as  a  runaway  convict.  To  this  day  I  can  hardly 
believe  it  was  himself  was  in  it,  with  his  fine 
clothes  and  cowld  way;  he  bid  me  good  night, 
said  he  would  give  me  till  the  morning  to  consider 
of  it ;  kissed  the  little  girl,  and  left  us.  Weak  as 
I  was  I  crawled  after  him,  and  saw  his  shadow  on 
the  grass;  I  wished  for  God  to  direct  me,  and 
prayed  for  that;  my  child  and  I  cried  together, 
and  before  the  day  rightly  broke,  she  said, 
*  Mother,  let  us  go  home,'  and  I  got  up,  as  well 
as  I  was  able,  and  followed  my  little  girl  back  to 
slavery. 

"  It  was  long  before  we  reached  where  we  had 
left,  and  I  was  afeared  at  first  they'd  be  hard  on 
me ;  but  they  weren't ;  and  when  my  time  was  up 
they  would  have  kept  me  there,  but  I  wanted  to 
set  my  foot  upon  the  sod  once  more,  and  to  see 
my  mother  before  she  died ;  they  would  have  kept 
the  little  girl,  but  she  would  not  leave  me. 

'  When  I  got  sight  of  ould  Ireland,  I  felt  as 
if  my  troubles  war  over:  for  a  little  while  that 
lasted.  I  went  to  my  old  home ;  my  mother  was 
dead,  though  the  grass  wasn't  grown  on  her 
grave.  All  I  could  do  was  to  kneel  on  it  with  my 
child; what  little  property  she  had  she  had  left  me, 
though  I  was  anything  but  worthy  of  it ;  it  didn't 


24  IRELAND 

thrive,  and  I  feared  that  my  poor  girl  would  fall 
under  her  mother's  ban ;  this  thought  was  over  me 
day  and  night;  I  heard  that  her  father's  sister 
was  living  near  Cork  (she  knew  that  he  was  my 
husband),  and  I  laid  a  case  before  her  that  I'd 
give  up  the  child  to  her,  for  she  had  lost  all  her 
own;  she  agreed,  on  one  condition — that  I  was 
never  to  see  her  more. 

"  Oh  lady,  it  was  hard ;  and  I  had  to  trap  away 
my  own  child;  to  invent  a  rason  for  laving  her, 
and  then  she  was  to  hear  that  I  was  dead,  which 
I  will  be  soon,  plase  God! — they  have  changed 
her  name,  and  for  the  last  four  years  I've  been 
begging  over  the  poor  counthry,  going  a  round  3 
betimes,  and  making  my  soul  as  I  ought;  but 
now,  God  help  me,  my  heart  fails  me ;  I  do  want 
to  see  the  face  of  my  own  child  once  more;  I 
thought  last  night  if  she  heard  the  song  she'd 
know  the  voice;  I  was  that  heart-sore  to  see  her 
that  I  think  the  last  breath  would  lave  me  asy 
if  I  could  just  listen  to  her  one  word;  and  yet," 
she  added,  "  I  don't  know  why ;  God  help  me  I 
don't  know  why ;  it  was  good  of  the  woman  to  take 
her,  she  had  no  reason  to  think  well  of  me  or  of 
her  father;  God  reward  her!  I  heard  from  one 
who  knows,  that  my  poor  child  would  be  happy 
if  she  knew  anything  of  her  mother;  and  for  all 
that  she  wouldn't  be  happy  to  see  me  as  I  am ;  I 
oughtn't  to  break  my  promise;  but  sure  the  love 
of  a  mother  breaks  through  stone  walls !  I  mind 
when  I  was  a  girl  having  taken  a  bird's  nest  and 
put  it  in  a  cage,  and  I  tended  the  young  ones  with 
the  best  of  food,  but  the  old  birds  would  come  with 


CORK  25 

the  first  and  with  the  last  light — there  they  war 
feedin'  and  cherishin'  the  young,  and  I  used  to 
tell  them  their  birds  war  better  off  than  they  could 
make  them;  but  still  they'd  come,  they'd  come, 
and  wail  and  murn — and  wail  and  murn,"  re- 
peated poor  Mary  mournfully.  Her  reason  and 
affection  were  at  variance;  but  I  saw,  as  is  gen- 
erally the  case  with  her  countrywomen,  that,  if 
she  lived,  the  love  of  parent  towards  child  must 
triumph. 

When  we  returned  from  Killarney,  she  had 
been  dead  some  days ;  and  although  we  knew  the 
house  in  which  her  daughter  resided,  we  had  no 
means  of  ascertaining  if  she  had  seen  her  mother. 

CORK  holds  rank  as  the  second  city  of  Ireland 
— in  extent,  population,  and  commercial  impor- 
tance. Its  situation  is  low,  having  been  origi- 
nally built  on  marshy  islands ;  whence  its  name — 
"  Corcagh,"  signifying,  in  Irish,  land  occasionally 
overflowed  by  the  tide;  but  the  northern  and 
southern  suburbs  stand  upon  high  ground. 
Scarcely  a  century  has  passed  since  the  river  ran 
through  its  principal  streets,  which  are  formed 
by  arching  over  the  stream.  The  poet  Spenser 
has  happily  described — 

"  The  spreading  Lee,  that  like  an  island  fair 
Encloseth  Cork  with  his  divided  flood." 

In  a  very  rare  tract,  so  rare  indeed  as  to  be 
said  to  be  unique,  entitled  "  A  relation  of  the 
most  lamentable  burning  of  the  city  of  Cork  by 
thunder  and  lightning,"  which  was  printed  in 
London  in  1622,  the  following  graphic  account 


26  IRELAND 

of  old  Cork  occurs : — "  The  cittie  of  Corke  hath 
his  beginning  upon  the  side  of  an  hill,  which  de- 
scendeth  easily  into  one  wide  and  long  streete; 
the  onely  principall  and  chiefe  streete  of  the 
cittie.  At  the  first  entrance  there  is  a  castle 
called  Shandon  Castle,  and  almost  over  against 
it  a  church  built  of  stone,  as  the  castle  is  a  kinde 
of  marble,  of  which  that  country  yeeldeth  store. 
The  cittie  hath  many  houses  built  of  the  same 
stone,  and  covered  with  slate.  But  the  greatest 
number  of  houses  are  built  of  tymber  or  mudde 
walls,  and  covered  with  thatch."  About  the  year 
1600,  Camden  described  the  city  as  enclosed 
"  within  a  circuit  of  walls  in  forme  of  an  egge, 
with  the  river  flowing  round  about  it  and  running 
betweene,  not  passable  through  but  by  bridges, 
lying  out  in  length  as  it  were  in  one  broad  street, 
and  the  same  having  a  bridge  over  it."  The 
foundation  of  Cork  is  generally  attributed  to 
Danish  adventurers  in  the  ninth  or  tenth  cen- 
tury; it  is  contended,  however,  that  its  origin 
was  earlier,  and  that  the  founder  was  St.  Finn 
Bar,  (the  fair-haired  or  white-headed,  for  the 
Irish  name  admits  of  both  translations,)  whose 
ecclesiastical  establishments  contained,  it  is  said, 
no  fewer  than  seven  hundred  priests,  monks,  and 
students.  For  several  centuries  the  annals  of 
Cork  are  little  more  than  records  of  skirmishes 
between  English  settlers  and  Irish  clans.  To- 
wards the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the 
chronicler  Holinshed  pictures  the  city  as  so 
"  beset  with  rebels  neighbouring  upon  it,  that 
they  (the  citizens)  are  fain  to  keep  watch  and 


CORK  27 

ward,  as  if  they  had  continual  siege  laid  unto  it." 
During  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.  it  was  des- 
tined to  achieve  a  fatal  notoriety:  the  mayor, 
John  Walters,  having  abetted  the  pretensions  of 
Perkin  Warbeck  to  the  throne,  was  hanged  for 
treason,  and  the  city  was,  for  a  time,  deprived  of 
its  charter.  While  the  contest  continued  be- 
tween the  Crown  and  the  Parliament,  Cork  gen- 
erally remained  firm  to  the  cause  of  Monarchy, 
but  succumbed  to  Oliver  Cromwell;  who,  during 
a  brief  visit,  ordered  the  church-bells  to  be  con- 
verted to  the  purposes  of  his  army,  and  is  said 
to  have  answered  a  remonstrance  on  the  subject 
by  facetiously  remarking,  that  "  since  gunpow- 
der was  invented  by  a  priest,  he  thought  the  best 
use  for  bells  would  be  to  promote  them  into 
canons."  The  city  was  early  in  declaring  for 
the  restoration  of  Charles  II. ;  and  it  is  a  singu- 
lar fact,  that  the  King  was  proclaimed  there 
eleven  days  before  the  proclamation  was  made 
in  London.  In  the  Revolution  of  1688,  it  sup- 
ported the  cause  of  James,  and  sustained  a 
siege  of  three  days'  duration;  remarkable  chiefly 
as  having  laid  the  foundation  of  the  future  fame 
and  fortune  of  the  hero  of  Blenheim.  After  an 
unsuccessful  effort  to  reduce  Limerick,  William 
III.  had  returned  to  England,  and  Marlbor- 
ough,  anxious  to  distinguish  himself,  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  command  of  an  expedition  for 
Ireland — it  is  believed,  through  the  influence  of 
the  Princess  Anne's  party;  by  whom  the  neces- 
sity was  urged  of  securing  Cork  and  Kinsale, 
which  were  open  to  receive  troops  and  supplies 


28  IRELAND 

for  the  support  of  the  army  of  James  II. 
William,  although  he  could  not  well  refuse  his 
sanction  to  the  proposed  expedition,  is  said  to 
have  viewed  it  with  a  jealous  eye,  and  to  have 
caused,  what  is  asserted  to  be,  the  unnecessary 
co-operation  of  the  Duke  of  Wirtemberg  at  the 
head  of  a  body  of  foreign  troops,  which  led  to  a 
dispute  between  the  two  generals  as  to  the  com- 
mand— Wirtemberg  claiming  it  as  a  Prince,  and 
Marlborough  as  the  senior  officer — and  which 
dispute  ended  in  an  adjustment  that  they  should 
command  on  alternate  days. 

Marlborough,  having  commanded  on  the  first 
and  third  days  of  the  siege,  obtained  the  credit 
of  taking  the  city.  As  a  military  exploit  it  was 
one  of  no  great  difficulty,  but  in  a  political  view 
was  important,  and  the  achievement  at  the  time 
was  proportionably  magnified  for  party  pur- 
poses. A  few  days  after  the  capture  of  Cork, 
Kinsale,  from  which  an  obstinate  defence  was 
expected,  surrendered,  and  the  adherents  of 
James  truly  sung,  in  rhymes  still  current  in  Ire- 
land— 

"  There  are  no  fortresses  that  we  can  call  our  own, 
But  Limerick  stout,  Galway,  and  brave  Athlone. 
Sing  oh — oh,  hone." 

With  this  event,  the  active  military  history  of 
Cork  terminates:  its  political  importance  being 
derived  exclusively  from  its  position  as  a  sea- 
port, and  as  the  first  commercial  city  of  Ireland ; 
its  noble  harbour  having  originated  the  motto — 
"  Static  bene  fida  carinis "  so  aptly  and  de- 


CORK  29 

servedly  applied  to  it.4  ( See  Plate  No.  1 . )  The 
city  arms,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  were  suggested 
by  the  arms  of  Bristol,  similar  privileges  to  those 
enjoyed  by  that  city  having  been  granted  to  Cork 
by  charter. 

Cork  has  a  cheerful  and  prosperous  aspect; 
the  leading  streets  are  wide;  and  though  the 
houses  may  be  described  as  built  with  studied 
irregularity,  their  character  is  by  no  means  un- 
graceful or  unpleasing.  The  quays  at  either 
side  of  the  Lee — here  of  course  a  river  muddied 
from  traffic — are  constructed  of  lime-stone,  and 
may  be  said  to  merit  the  term  so  frequently  ap- 
plied to  them,  "  grand  and  elegant."  The  city 
is  a  mere  mart  for  commerce;  the  whole  of  the 
gentry,  and  indeed  a  large  proportion  of  the 
trading  inhabitants,  living  in  the  picturesque  and 
beautiful  outskirts.  The  public  buildings  of 
Cork  are  neither  numerous  nor  remarkable;  the 
court-house  being  almost  the  only  good  example 
of  modern  architecture,  if  we  except  the  offices 
recently  erected  by  the  St.  George  Steam  Packet 
Company,  on  the  quay,  which  their  vessels  have 
made  more  bustling  than  that  of  the  Custom- 
house— an  ungainly  structure,  that  stands  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river.  The  bridges,  as  may 
be  supposed,  are  numerous.  St.  Patrick's 
bridge,  had  formerly  a  drawbridge  attached  to 
it;  but  being  one  of  the  most  frequented  thor- 
oughfares to  a  new  and  populous  district,  and  the 
portcullis  being  of  comparatively  small  value  to 
the  navigation,  it  was  removed  in  1823.  In 
1830,  Anglesey  bridge,  or,  as  it  is  more  generally 


30  IRELAND 

called,  "  the  metal  bridge,"  was  constructed  by 
the  eminent  architect,  Sir  Thomas  Deane,  from 
a  design  by  Mr.  Griffiths ;  it  consists  of  two  ellip- 
tic arches,  forty-four  feet  in  span,  with  a  draw- 
bridge to  admit  vessels  to  the  quays  on  the  south 
branch  of  the  Lee,  which  it  crosses. 

Antiquities  are  rare;  the  Cathedral,  dedicated 
to  St.  Finn  Bar,  is  built  on  the  site  of  the  early 
church,  a  few  of  the  remains  of  which  have  been 
introduced  into  the  modern  structure.  The 
tower  of  the  steeple  is,  comparatively,  an- 
cient: the  pointed  doorway  recessed,  and  richly 
moulded.  It  consists  of  two  distinct  arches,  the 
inner  being  ornamented  by  bold  and  well-relieved 
mouldings,  and  the  outer  by  cluster  columns  and 
a  cinquefoiled  head,  all  in  low  relief.  It  is  cu- 
rious that  the  inner  portion  of  the  archway  should 
have  been  executed  in  freestone,  of  which  there  is 
none  now  to  be  had  in  Cork,  and  that  the  outer 
should  have  been  executed  in  a  different  mate- 
rial, limestone.  The  building,  taken  as  a  whole, 
has  no  pretensions  to  Cathedral  grandeur.  It 
was  erected  in  1735,  the  expense  having  been  de- 
frayed by  a  tax  of  one  shilling  per  ton  on  all 
coals  and  culm  consumed  within  the  city.  A 
round  tower  formerly  stood  in  the  churchyard; 
but,  having  been  considerably  injured  by  the  fire 
from  the  Fort  on  Barrack  Hill,  when  Marlbor- 
ough  stormed  Cork,  this  venerable  remain  was 
taken  down,  and  no  trace  of  it  at  present  exists. 
In  the  churchyard  there  are  few  monuments  that 
call  for  notice ;  one  tablet,  containing  merely  two 
lines,  however,  hints  at  a  touching  story. 


CORK  31 

"  Here  lies  a  branch  of  DESMOND'S  race, 
In  Thomas  Holland's  burial-place." 

Institutions,  charitable,  scientific,  and  literary, 
abound  in  Cork ;  it  has  been  celebrated  more  than 
any  other  city  of  Ireland  for  the  production  and 
fosterage  of  genius,  and  is  the  birthplace  of 
many  distinguished  characters,  as  well  as  of  per- 
sons who  have  attained  considerable  eminence  in 
literature,  science,  and  the  arts.  Among  the 
former  who  are  at  present  living,  or  recently  were 
so,  may  be  named  General  O'Leary,  the  South 
American  patriot ;  Mr.  Hastie,  the  tutor  of  King 
Radamah,  and  to  whose  exertions  the  present 
civilized  state  of  Madagascar  may  be  mainly  at- 
tributed; and  Miss  Thomson,  the  favourite  wife 
of  Muli  Mahomed,  late  Emperor  of  Morocco.5 
The  most  remarkable  of  the  latter — of  whom  we 
could  readily  enumerate  several — is  the  painter 
James  Barry ;  of  the  house  in  which  he  was  born, 
Mr.  Crofton  Croker  has  supplied  us  with  a 
sketch;  which  we  copy  (See  Plate  No.  1),  not 
merely  because  of  its  interest  in  association  with 
the  memory  of  the  eccentric  artist,  but  as  afford- 
ing a  correct  idea  of  the  peculiar  character  of  the 
suburb  of  an  Irish  town.  The  house  is  in  Water- 
lane,  in  the  northern,  or  "  Blackpool,"  suburb, 
and  is  marked  by  two  women  at  the  door. 

The  jails  of  Cork— the  "  city  "  and  "  county  " 
— are  models  of  good  management,  cleanliness, 
and  order.  In  the  former,  during  our  latest 
visit,  were  confined  the  notorious  culprits  Casey 
and  Hartnett,  who  had  been  tried  and  found 
guilty  of  the  murder  of  a  policeman  on  the  Glan- 


32  IRELAND 

mire  road.  The  crime  was  deprived  of  much  of 
its  atrocity  by  the  fact  that  it  was  not  premedi- 
tated. They  had  robbed  a  gentleman,  the  po- 
liceman pursued  them,  and  in  the  struggle  he 
was  killed.  The  characters  of  the  men,  how- 
ever, were  so  bad,  that  they  were  sentenced  to 
die;  their  graves  had  actually  been  dug  beneath 
the  wall  of  their  prison,  and  the  gallows  erected 
on  which  they  were  to  suffer,  when  it  was  remem- 
bered that  the  judge  in  passing  sentence  had  for- 
gotten to  add  the — as  it  afterwards  appeared — 
important  words,  "  and  be  buried  within  the 
precincts  of  the  jail; " — "  The  Court  awards  it, 
and  the  law  doth  give  it."  A  motion  in  arrest 
of  judgment  was  moved;  the  judges  deliberated; 
and  the  result  was  the  acquittal  of  the  prisoners. 
They  were,  however,  subsequently  tried  for  the 
robbery,  and  have  been  since  transported.  An- 
other circumstance  renders  the  case  memorable: 
Casey,  whose  horror  of  death  was  so  excessive, 
that  one  of  the  jailors  assured  us  there  would 
have  been  no  chance  of  bringing  him  to  execu- 
tion except  in  irons  and  by  main  force,  had  de- 
termined on  making  an  effort  to  escape.  He 
had  nothing  to  assist  him  but  a  slight  file,  con- 
veyed to  him  by  his  wife,  it  is  conjectured  in  an 
oaten  cake,  notwithstanding  the  vigilance  of  a 
most  scrupulous  jailor,  and  particularly  watch- 
ful and  adroit  turnkeys.  Before  he  was  locked 
up  in  his  cell,  he  contrived  to  file  the  iron  fasten- 
ing nearly  through,  and  had  no  difficulty  in 
forcing  open  the  entrance.  Hartnett  was  con- 
fined in  the  cell  next  but  one;  his  first  object  was 


CORK  33 

to  release  his  fellow-prisoner,  and  next  to  wrench 
out  one  of  the  iron  window-bars.  In  this  he 
succeeded,  but  the  aperture  was  so  small  that  it 
is  almost  incredible  how  he  could  have  forced 
himself  through  it ;  he  did  so,  however,  after  two 
or  three  hours  of  almost  superhuman  effort, 
fainting  thrice  during  the  struggle.  At  length 
he  was  in  the  first  yard,  comparatively  free;  he 
had  still  three  very  high  walls  to  climb,  and  as 
Hartnett  found  it  impossible  to  follow  him,  he 
had  to  trust  entirely  to  his  own  exertions.  He 
surmounted  two  of  the  prison-walls,  and  in 
reaching  the  third  actually  stepped  over  the  grave 
that  had  been  dug  for  him:  the  third  wall  was 
topped  by  loose  brickwork  and  a  chevaux-de- 
frise;  on  reaching  the  summit,  part  of  this  gave 
way,  and  he  fell  to  the  ground.  At  the  moment, 
the  jail  clock  struck  five,  and  he  knew  that  his  es- 
cape must  be  ascertained  in  a  few  minutes  more, 
as  at  that  hour  the  turnkeys  would  open  the 
wards.  He,  therefore,  concealed  himself  under 
a  heap  of  filth  in  the  yard,  where  he  was,  after 
about  half  an  hour's  search,  discovered,  and  con- 
veyed back  to  his  cell.  The  turnkey  who  first 
laid  hands  upon  him  assured  us  that  no  disap- 
pointed fiend  could  have  looked  more  ferocious; 
and  that  he  would  certainly  have  killed  any  one 
who  approached  him,  if  a  weapon  of  any  kind 
had  been  within  his  reach. 

The  expression  of  his  countenance,  although 
not  that  of  a  ruffian,  was  strongly  characteristic 
of  energy  and  determination.     His  chest  was  re- 
markably broad,  and  his  arm  so  muscular  as  to 
v— s 


34  IRELAND 

feel  almost  like  iron;  his  neck  was  short  and 
thick,  his  head  black  and  round,  his  eyes  were 
peculiarly  bright  and  sparkling,  and  his  air  was 
bold  and  fearless, — while  his  less  assured  com- 
panion, an  ill-looking  fellow,  hung  back.  Casey 
was  of  short  stature;  and  on  the  governor  re- 
marking that  he  was  a  small  man  to  have  so  much 
strength,  we  whispered  something  to  the  effect, 
that  "  all  great  men  were  small  men."  His  ear 
was,  to  our  surprise,  quick  enough  to  catch  the 
words,  and  he  laughed  with  as  much  evident  en- 
joyment as  if  he  had  been  a  player  acting  his 
part  before  a  satisfied  audience. 

As  in  nearly  all  the  jails  throughout  Ireland, 
there  is,  in  those  of  Cork,  otherwise  so  admirably 
managed,  a  grievous  want  of  classification;  atro- 
cious criminals  and  petty  offenders  are  mixed  to- 
gether in  a  manner  sadly  prejudicial.  At  Clon- 
mel,  in  particular,  the  evil  is  especially  great;  the 
prisoners  were  placed  before  us  in  files;  among 
them  we  saw  an  elderly  and  respectable-looking 
man  striving  to  hide  his  face  with  his  hat,  and 
stepping  back  to  elude  observation.  We  found 
he  had  been  confined  for  "  drunkenness,"  and 
that  the  person  next  to  whom  he  stood  was  about 
to  take  his  trial  for  sheep-stealing,  and  had  pre- 
viously been  in  custody  on  suspicion  of  murder. 
This  most  injurious  system  is,  however,  rapidly 
giving  way,  and  we  must  do  the  governors  of  the 
several  prisons  we  inspected  the  justice  to  say, 
that  they  are  making  unceasing  efforts  for  its 
entire  removal. 

The  most  remarkable  and,  to  a  stranger,  the 


CORK  35 

most  interesting  of  the  public  institutions  of 
Cork,  is  the  lunatic  asylum  of  the  county  and 
city.  The  latest  return — dated  March,  1840 — 
gives  the  amount  of  patients  at  406:  200  males, 
and  206  females.  Among  the  unhappy  inmates 
of  this  establishment,  is  one  to  whose  delirium 
seven  fellow-creatures  were  sacrificed,  and  in  a 
manner  so  singular  as  to  appear  incredible.  Cap- 
tain Steward  was  master  of  the  "  Mary  Rus- 
sell," a  merchant  brig  engaged  in  the  West  India 
trade;  and  the  frightful  act,  for  which  he  was 
subsequently  tried  and  acquitted,  on  the  ground 
of  insanity,  was  perpetrated  during  the  home- 
ward voyage,  on  the  22nd  June,  1828.  His 
crew  consisted  of  six  men  and  three  apprentice 
boys,  and  on  board  there  were  three  passengers ; 
the  three  passengers  and  four  of  his  seamen  he 
murdered,  cruelly  maiming  the  other  two  men; 
the  boys  narrowly  escaping  with  their  lives. 
Under  the  delusion  that  they  were  arranging  a 
mutiny,  he  induced  them  to  allow  themselves  to 
be  tied ;  to  which  they  consented  in  order  to  allay 
his  imaginary  fears;  while  in  this  helpless  state, 
he  killed  them  with  a  crowbar. 

Steward  is  a  small  and  slight  man,  now  appar- 
ently under  fifty  years  of  age.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  sailor's  garb,  remarkably  neat  and  clean. 
He  conversed  with  us  freely  upon  ordinary 
topics,  and  referred  to  the  time  when  he  was 
in  jail,  without  however  alluding  to  the  crime 
for  which  he  had  been  imprisoned.  There 
is,  to  our  minds,  no  expression  in  his  coun- 
tenance that  indicates  insanity;  and,  certainly,  it 


36  IRELAND 

is  by  no  means  characteristic  of  ferocity.  His 
visage  is  thin,  long,  and  pallid ;  his  hair  sandy ;  his 
mouth  narrow,  close  and  inflexible;  his  eyes 
small,  grey,  restless,  and  very  acute,  more  like 
the  eyes  of  a  rat  than  of  a  human  being.  We 
understand  that  he  frequently  speaks  of  the  mur- 
ders he  had  committed,  and  always  as  necessary 
for  the  preservation  of  his  own  life  from  the  plots 
of  his  mutinous  crew.  We  confess  that  his  ab- 
sence was  a  relief;  for  it  was  impossible  to  avoid 
recalling  to  remembrance  the  appalling  deed 
which  had  made  so  many  parents  childless,  or  to 
look  upon  the  wretched  man  without  feelings 
akin  to  loathing. 

The  national  customs  that  prevail  among  the 
people  of  Cork  are  common  to  other  parts  of 
Ireland,  with  one  exception;  and  although  it  is 
partially  found  elsewhere — in  the  Isle  of  Man 
for  instance — it  is  certainly  confined  to  the 
southern  districts  of  Ireland. 

For  some  weeks  preceding  Christmas,  crowds 
of  village  boys  may  be  seen  peering  into  the 
hedges,  in  search  of  the  "  tiny  wren;  "  and  when 
one  is  discovered,  the  whole  assemble  and  give 
eager  chase  to,  until  they  have  killed,  the  little 
bird.  In  the  hunt  the  utmost  excitement  pre- 
vails; shouting,  screeching,  and  rushing;  all  sorts 
of  missiles  are  flung  at  the  puny  mark ;  and,  not 
unfrequently,  they  light  upon  the  head  of  some 
less  innocent  being.  From  bush  to  bush,  from 
hedge  to  hedge,  is  the  wren  pursued  until 
bagged,  with  as  much  pride  and  pleasure  as  the 
cock  of  the  woods  by  the  more  ambitious  sports- 


CORK  37 

man.  The  stranger  is  utterly  at  a  loss  to  con- 
ceive the  cause  of  this  "  hubbub,"  or  the  motive 
for  so  much  energy  in  pursuit  of  "  such  small 
game."  On  the  anniversary  of  St.  Stephen  (the 
26th  of  December)  the  enigma  is  explained. 
Attached  to  a  huge  holly-bush,  elevated  on  a 
pole,  the  bodies  of  several  little  wrens  are  borne 
about.  This  bush  is  an  object  of  admiration  in 
proportion  to  the  number  of  dependent  birds, 
and  is  carried  through  the  streets  in  procession, 
by  a  troop  of  boys,  among  whom  may  be  usually 
found  "  children  of  a  larger  growth,"  shouting 
and  roaring  as  they  proceed  along,  and  every  now 
and  then  stopping  before  some  popular  house — 
such  as  that  of  Mr.  Olden,  the  "  distinguished 
inventor  "  of  EVKEROGENION  (a  liquid  soap)  and 
half-a-dozen  other  delightful  and  useful  things, 
to  which  he  has  given  similar  classical  names — 
and  their  singing  "  the  wren  boys'  "  song. 

To  the  words  we  have  listened  a  score  of  times, 
and  although  we  have  found  them  often  varied 
according  to  the  wit  or  poetical  capabilities  of  a 
leader  of  the  party,  and  have  frequently  heard 
them  drawled  out  to  an  apparently  interminable 
length,  the  following  specimen  will  probably  sat- 
isfy our  readers  as  to  the  merit  of  the  composi- 
tion : — 

The  wran,  the  wran,  the  king  of  all  birds, 
St.  Stephen's  day  was  cot  in  the  furze; 
Although  he  is  little,  his  family's  grate — 
Put  yer  hand  in  yer  pocket  and  give  us  a  trate. 
Sing  holly,  sing  ivy — sing  ivy,  sing  holly, 
A  drop  j  ust  to  drink  it  would  drown  melancholy. 


38  IRELAND 

And  if  you  dhraw  it  ov  the  best, 

I  hope  in  heaven  yer  sowl  will  rest; 

But  if  you  dhraw  it  ov  the  small, 

It  won't  agree  wid  de  wran  boys  at  all. 

Of  course  contributions  are  levied  in  many 
quarters,  and  the  evening  is,  or  rather  was,  occu- 
pied in  drinking  out  the  sum  total  of  the  day's 
collection. 

This  is,  we  believe,  the  only  Christmas  gambol 
remaining  in  Ireland  of  the  many,  that  in  the 
middle  ages  were  so  numerous  and  so  dangerous 
as  to  call  for  the  interposition  of  the  law,  and  the 
strong  arm  of  magisterial  authority.  As  to  the 
origin  of  the  whimsical  but  absurd  and  cruel  cus- 
tom, we  have  no  data.  A  legend,  however,  is 
still  current  among  the  peasantry  which  may 
serve  in  some  degree  to  elucidate  it. 

In  a  grand  assembly  of  all  the  birds  of  the  air, 
it  was  determined  that  the  sovereignty  of  the 
feathered  tribe  should  be  conferred  upon  the  one 
who  would  fly  highest.  The  favourite  in  the 
betting-book  was,  of  course,  the  eagle,  who  at 
once,  and  in  full  confidence  of  victory,  com- 
menced his  flight  towards  the  sun;  when  he  had 
vastly  distanced  all  competitors,  he  proclaimed 
with  a  mighty  voice  his  monarchy  over  all  things 
that  had  wings.  Suddenly,  however,  the  wren, 
who  had  secreted  himself  under  the  feathers  of 
the  eagle's  crest,  popped  from  his  hiding-place, 
flew  a  few  inches  upwards,  and  chirped  out  as 
loudly  as  he  could,  "  Birds,  look  up  and  behold 
your  king." 

There  is  also  a  tradition,  that  in  "  ould  ancient 


CORK  39 

times,"  when  the  native  Irish  were  about  to  catch 
their  Danish  enemies  asleep,  a  wren  perched  upon 
the  drum,  and  woke  the  slumbering  sentinels  just 
in  time  to  save  the  whole  army;  in  consequence 
of  which,  the  little  bird  was  proclaimed  a  traitor, 
outlawed,  and  his  life  declared  forfeit  wherever 
he  was  thenceforward  encountered. 

Another  old  custom  prevails  also  to  some  ex- 
tent. May  eve,  the  last  day  of  April,  is  called 
"  Nettlemas  night:  "  boys  parade  the  streets  with 
large  bunches  of  nettles,  stinging  their  playmates, 
and  occasionally  bestowing  a  sly  touch  upon 
strangers  who  come  in  their  way.  Young  and 
merry  maidens,  too,  not  unfrequently  avail  them- 
selves of  the  privilege  to  "  sting  "  their  lovers ;  and 
the  laughter  in  the  street  is  often  echoed  in  the 
drawing-room.  These  are  the  only  customs  pe- 
culiar to  Cork,  if  we  except  that  of  "  the  Christ- 
mas candle."  A  tallow  candle  is  formed,  with- 
out question  to  commemorate  "  the  Trinity;  "  it 
is  lit  at  three  ends  on  Christmas  eve,  and  burned 
until  midnight.  (See  Plate  No.  2.)  It  is  then 
extinguished,  and  carefully  preserved  during  the 
year  as  a  protection  against  the  visits  of  all  evil 
spirits — except  whiskey. 

Promenades  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood 
of  Cork  are  few;  the  oldest  is  the  Mardyke,  a 
walk  between  rows  of  aged  but  ungracefully 
lopped  trees,  which  shade  a  gravelled  path,  at  the 
side  of  a  muddy  and  half -stagnant  "  canal." 
The  new  cemetery,  however,  demands  some  no- 
tice. It  was  formerly  a  botanic  garden  attached 
to  the  Cork  Institution;  but  in  1826  was  sold  to 


40  IRELAND 

the  very  Rev.  Theobald  Mathew,  who  converted 
it  to  its  present  use.  It  is,  therefore,  perhaps 
unrivalled  in  the  kingdom,  being  full  of  the  rarest 
trees  from  all  parts  of  the  world;  its  walls  are 
covered  with  climbing  roses  and  other  shrubs; 
and  from  the  nature  of  its  soil  and  aspect,  every- 
thing is  growing  in  luxuriant  profusion.  The 
hand  of  science  has  laid  out  its  gravelled  paths, 
and  the  art  of  the  sculptor  has  been  employed  to 
ornament  it — occasionally  with  remarkably  good 
taste  and  effect,  but  not  unfrequently  so  as 
greatly  to  mar  its  beauty.  As  a  specimen  of  the 
bad  taste  occasionally,  though  we  must  admit 
rarely,  to  be  found  here,  the  clothing  of  an  angel 
in  a  fashionable  cravat  and  coat  is  an  instance, 
copied  from  the  "  iron  railing  of  a  monument." 
(See  Plate  No.  2.)  We  regret  to  add  that  the 
cemetery  is  completely  overgrown  with  weeds — 
gigantic  nettles  and  docks  have  been  permitted 
absolutely  to  cover  the  graves,  reminding  the  vis- 
itor far  too  forcibly  of  the  lines  on  "  the  slug- 
gard," 

"  I  went  to  his  garden  and  saw  the  wild  brier, 
The  thorn  and  the  thistle  grew  higher  and  higher." 

In  such  a  situation,  and  under  such  circum- 
stances, this  is  to  be  lamented;  although  Mr. 
Mathew  himself  is  unable  to  attend  to  the  pro- 
prieties of  this  naturally  beautiful  cemetery,  the 
care  of  it  should  be  confided  to  some  one  whose 
time  and  attention  might  be  worthily  employed 
in  improving  it  and  keeping  it  in  order. 

The  prosperity  of  Cork  is  maintained  exclu- 


CORK  41 

sively  by  its  export  trade ; — this  principally  con- 
sists of  live  stock,  salted  provisions,  corn,  whis- 
key, tanned  leather,  and  butter.  For  butter  it 
has  long  been  celebrated:  so  early  as  1744,  the 
export  was  97,852  cwt.;  in  the  year  1836,  it  ex- 
ceeded 270,000  firkins.  The  population  of  the 
city  by  the  last  census  was  107,016;  of  the  county 
— the  largest  and  most  populous  of  Ireland — 
703,716. 

Cork  is  the  great  "  outlet  "  for  emigrants  from 
the  south  of  Ireland,  and  the  Australian  Emi- 
gration Society  have  an  agent  there.  Their 
plans  appear  to  be  conducted  very  judiciously; 
and  although  it  can  never  be  aught  but  a  melan- 
choly sighjt  to  see  the  most  useful  and  valuable 
of  its  home  produce  exported  to  enrich  distant 
lands,  when  there  are  so  many  thousand  acres, 
unproductive,  in  all  directions  around  them,  the 
evil  is  greatly  lessened  by  prudent  and  sensible 
arrangements,  in  transmitting  them  to  the  scene 
of  their  future  labours.  We  are  not,  at  present, 
about  to  consider  the  anomalies  and  contradic- 
tions of  Ireland — her  natural  advantages  and 
destitute  population — her  land  wanting  labour, 
and  her  people  wanting  employment — or,  as  it 
was  epigrammatically  expressed  by  "  a  patriot  " 
at  Bannow,  "  lands  wanting  hands,  and  hands 
wanting  lands ;  "  but  there  is  no  disputing  the 
fact,  that,  under  existing  circumstances,  emigra- 
tion to  some  extent  is  a  necessary  evil. 

We  stood,  in  the  month  of  June,  on  the  quay 
of  Cork  to  see  some  emigrants  embark  in  one  of 
the  steamers  for  Falmouth,  on  their  way  to  Aus- 


42  IRELAND 

tralia.  The  band  of  exiles  amounted  to  two 
hundred,  and  an  immense  crowd  had  assembled 
to  bid  them  a  long  and  last  adieu.  The  scene 
was  very  touching;  it  was  impossible  to  witness 
it  without  heart-pain  and  tears.  Mothers  hung 
upon  the  necks  of  their  athletic  sons ;  young  girls 
clung  to  elder  sisters ;  fathers — old  white-headed 
men — fell  upon  their  knees,  with  arms  uplifted 
to  heaven,  imploring  the  protecting  care  of  the 
Almighty  on  their  departing  children.  "  Och," 
exclaimed  one  aged  woman,  "  all's  gone  from  me 
in  the  wide  world  when  you're  gone!  Sure  you 
was  all  I  had  left ! — of  seven  sons — but  you!  Oh 
Dennis,  Dennis,  never  forget  your  mother — your 
mother! — don't,  avourneen — your  poor  ould 
mother,  Dennis !  "  And  Dennis,  a  young  man — 
though  the  sun  was  shining  on  his  grey  hair — 
supported  "  his  mother  "  in  his  arms  until  she 
fainted;  and  then  he  lifted  her  into  a  small  car 
that  had  conveyed  his  baggage  to  the  vessel,  and 
kissing  a  weeping  young  woman  who  leaned 
against  the  horse,  he  said,  "  I'll  send  home  for 
you  both,  Peggy,  in  the  rise  of  next  year;  and 
ye'll  be  a  child  to  her  from  this  out,  till  then,  and 
then,  avourneen,  you'll  be  my  own."  When  we 
looked  again  the  young  man  was  gone,  and 
"  Peggy  "  had  wound  her  arms  round  the  old 
woman,  while  another  girl  held  a  broken  cup  of 
water  to  her  lips.  Amid  the  din,  the  noise,  the 
turmoil,  the  people  pressing  and  rolling  in  vast 
masses  towards  the  place  of  embarkation,  like  the 
waves  of  the  troubled  sea,  there  were  many  such 
sad  episodes.  Men,  old  men  too,  embracing  each 


CORK  43 

other  and  crying  like  children.  Several  passed 
bearing  most  carefully  little  relics  of  their  homes 
— the  branch  of  a  favourite  hawthorn  tree,  whose 
sweet  blossoms  and  green  leaves  were  already 
withered,  or  a  bunch  of  meadow-sweet.  Many 
had  a  long  switch  of  the  "  witch  hazel," — to  en- 
circle the  ground  whereon  they  were  to  sleep  in 
a  foreign  land,  so  as,  according  to  the  universal 
superstition,  to  prevent  the  approach  of  any 
venomous  reptile  or  poisonous  insect.  One  girl 
we  saw  with  a  gay  little  goldfinch  in  a  cage — she 
and  her  sister  were  town-bred,  and  told  us  they 
had  learned  "  lace-work  "  from  the  good  ladies 
at  the  convent,  "  that  look'd  so  beautiful  on  the 
banks  of  the  Cork  river ;  "  and  then  they  burst  out 
weeping  again,  and  clung  together  as  if  to  assure 
each  other  that,  sad  as  it  was  to  leave  their  coun- 
try, they  would  be  together  in  exile. 

On  the  deck  of  the  steamer  there  was  less  con- 
fusion than  might  have  been  expected.  The 
hour  of  departure  was  at  hand — the  police  had 
torn  asunder  several  who  at  the  last  would  not  be 
separated — and  as  many  as  could  find  room 
were  leaning  over  the  side  speechless,  yet  eloquent 
in  gesture,  expressing  their  adieus  to  their  friends 
and  relatives  on  shore.  In  the  midst  of  the  agi- 
tation, a  fair-haired  boy  and  girl  were  sitting 
tranquilly,  yet  sadly,  watching  over  a  very  fine 
white  Angora  cat  that  was  carefully  packed  in  a 
basket.  '  We  are  going  out  to  papa  and  mamma 
with  nurse,"  they  said,  in  an  unmitigated  brogue ; 
"  but  we  are  very  sorry  to  leave  dear  Ireland  for 
all  that."  Their  father  had,  we  imagine,  been  a 


44  IRELAND 

prosperous  settler.  "  Oh,  Ireland,  mavourneen 
— oh,  my  own  dear  counthry — and  is  it  myself 
that's  for  laving  you  afther  giving  ye  the  sweat 
of  my  brow  and  the  love  of  my  heart  for  forty 
years ! "  said  a  strong  man,  whose  features  were 
convulsed  with  emotion,  while  he  grasped  his 
children  tightly  to  his  bosom.  "  And  remember 
your  promise,  Mogue,  remember  your  promise; 
not  to  let  my  bones  rest  in  the  strange  counthry, 
Mogue,"  said  his  wife;  "but  to  send  me  home 
when  I'm  dead  to  my  own  people  in  Kilcrea — 
that's  my  consolation." 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  final  parting. 
Shrieks  and  prayers,  blessings  and  lamentations, 
mingled  in  "  one  great  cry  "  from  those  on  the 
quay  and  those  on  shipboard,  until  a  band  sta- 
tioned in  the  forecastle  struck  up  "  Patrick's  day." 
"  Bate  the  brains  out  of  the  big  drum,  or  ye '11  not 
stifle  the  women's  cries,"  said  one  of  the  sailors  to 
the  drummer.  We  left  the  vessel  and  her  crowd 
of  clean,  well-dressed,  and  perfectly  sober  emi- 
grants with  deep  regret,  that,  while  there  are  in 
Ireland  so  many  miles  of  unreclaimed  land,  such 
a  freight  should  be  conveyed  from  her  shores. 
The  communicating  plank  was  withdrawn;  the 
steamer  moved  forward  majestically  on  its  way. 
Some,  overcome  with  emotion,  fell  down  on  the 
deck;  others  waved  hats,  handkerchiefs,  and 
hands  to  their  friends;  the  band  played  louder; 
and  the  crowds  on  shore  rushed  forward  simul- 
taneously, determined  to  see  the  last  of  those 
they  loved.  We  heard  a  feeble  voice  exclaim, 


CORK  45 

"  Dennis,  Dennis,  don't  forget  your  mother — 
your  poor  ould  mother !  " 

The  evening  that  succeeded  this  agitating 
morning  was  calm  and  balmy.  We  desired  to 
examine  the  scene  of  the  morning's  turmoil,  and 
drove  along  the  quay ;  it  was  lonely  and  deserted 
save  by  a  few  stragglers.  We  continued  our 
drive  until  the  signs  of  immediate  traffic  were 
widely  scattered.  We  passed  through  the  village 
of  Douglas,  once  famous  for  its  sail-cloth  manu- 
factory, and  proceeded  onward  until  the  Cork 
river  widened  into  a  mimic  sea,  called  Lough 
Mahon.  We  drove  slowly,  enjoying  the  rare 
and  exquisitely  varied  landscape,  until  our  at- 
tention was  attracted  by  a  woman  standing  by 
the  water's  brink,  whose  eyes  were  looking  to- 
wards the  sea-path  where  it  leads  to  the  broad 
Atlantic.  There  was  something  firm  and  statue- 
like  in  her  figure,  and  her  face  had  an  earnest, 
intense  expression,  that  accorded  with  her  high 
Spanish  features  and  dark  hair;  a  large  shawl 
enveloped  her  head  and  draped  her  shoulders; 
her  legs  and  feet  were  bare.  We  drove  on  about 
half  a  mile  further,  and  when  we  returned  she 
was  there  still  on  the  same  spot,  with  the  same 
fixed  and  earnest  gaze  over  the  waters.  This 
excited  our  curiosity,  and  the  information  we  re- 
ceived was  a  very  striking  and  gratifying  illus- 
tration of  the  devotedness  of  woman's  love. 

"  I  have  known  her,"  said  an  old  fisherman, 
"  for  four-and-twenty  years — almost  ever  since 
she  was  born,  and  I  must  say — 'Ay!  there  ye 


46  IRELAND 

stand,  Grace  Connell,  and  a  better  woman  never 
looked  with  a  tearful  eye,  or  a  batin  heart,  along 
the  waters.'  And  what  do  you  think  her  dis- 
tress is  now?  an  'troth — like  all  tender  people — 
the  throuble  is  seldom  altogether  away  from  her ; 
the  could  only  look  to  themselves,  the  kind  have 
a  pulse  for  all  the  world.  Grace  Connell  doesn't 
to  say  belong  to  Cork,  but  her  father  came  here 
soon  after  she  was  born,  a  widow-man  with  only 
her ;  he  settled  down  in  Cove,  and  it  wasn't  long 
till  he  married  again.  And  Grace's  stepmother 
was  kinder,  I  believe,  than  most  of  her  like ;  any- 
how when  she  died — which  she  did  after  being 
a  wife  about  two  years — Grace,  and  she  little 
more  than  a  slip  of  a  child,  took  wonderfully  to 
the  baby  the  stepmother  left,  and  every  one 
wondered  how  one  so  young  could  manage  an 
infant  so  well.  Grace  would  mend  her  father's 
nets  and  things,  keep  all  clean  and  comfortable, 
and  yet  find  time  to  be  with  her  little  sister  in 
summer  shade  and  winter  sunshine;  finding  out 
what  best  she'd  like,  what  best  would  do  her 
good,  and  learning  her  all  she  knew — not  much, 
to  be  sure — but  her  all.  Nell  grew  up  the  con- 
thrary  to  Grace  in  all  things,  a  giddy  goose  of 
a  puss  of  a  girl,  yet  the  purtiest  ever  seen  in 
Cove ;  and  the  hand  of  God  was  heavy  over  them, 
for  while  they  were  both  young  the  father  died. 
But  Grace  Connell  kept  herself  and  her  sister 
well,  for  she's  wonderful  handy  and  industrious; 
and  as  was  natural,  in  Ireland  anyhow,  Grace 
got  a  sweetheart,  a  fine  handsome  steady  boy  as 
you'd  meet  in  a  day's  walk,  and  a  clever  hand  at 


CORK  47 

his  trade.  Now  if  Grace  was  steady,  John 
Casey  was  steadier  ten  times  over,  and  every  one 
said  they  were  just  made  for  each  other.  And 
they  took  on  at  the  *  courting '  different  to  most, 
because  they  agreed  to  wait  till  John  was  out  of 
his  time  before  they  got  married.  Weeks  and 
months  passed,  and  Nell  grew  up  beautiful,  a 
wild  half -sailor  sort  of  a  girl,  who  could  furl  a 
sail  or  scull  a  boat,  and  sing  say  songs,  and,  all 
the  while,  was  as  shy  and  as  proud  as  Barry  Oge 
himself.  Grace  sometimes  had  a  misgiving  in 
her  own  mind  that  John  was  not  as  fond  of  her 
as  he  used  to  be;  but  then  he  had  a  quiet  Eng- 
lish sort  of  dry  way  with  him,  that  led  her  off 
the  notion  again.  One  Sunday  evening  in  par- 
ticular, they,  that  is  Grace  and  Nelly  and  John, 
were  down  nearly  opposite  where  you  saw  Grace 
standing.  Grace  was  sitting  on  the  strand,  and 
John  by  her  side.  While  Nell  was  amusing  her- 
self climbing  among  the  cliffs,  and  singing  like 
a  wild  bird,  two  or  three  times  they  warned  her 
not  to  be  so  venturesome,  but  she'd  only  laugh 
at  them  and  be  the  more  fearless ;  and  soon  Grace 
saw  that  John  was  watching  Nell  instead  of 
listening  to  her,  and  a  heavy  cloud  came  over  her, 
and  both  remained  silent. 

"  All  of  a  sudden,  as  Nell  was  reaching  over 
the  edge  to  pull  some  sea-pinks,  she  fell  in:  the 
rocks  were  sharp  just  there,  and  the  water  deep 
— and  when  Grace  got  to  the  spot,  Nell  was 
floating  out  with  the  tide,  and  the  water  red  with 
her  blood.  John  was  a  fine  swimmer,  and  with 
a  word,  which  even  then  Grace  felt,  he  jumped 


48  IRELAND 

in  and  brought  her  to  shore  in  his  arms  in  a  few 
minutes;  but  before  the  sun  set  that  had  shone 
upon  those  three,  Grace  saw  by  him,  in  his  mad- 
ness as  he  hung  over  her  still  senseless  sister, 
that  it  was  Nell  he  loved  now — as  he  once  said 
he  had  loved  Grace.  '  I  didn't  wonder  at  it,'  said 
Grace  Connell  to  my  wife,  who  was  her  mother's 
own  first  cousin — *  I  didn't  wonder  at  his  chang- 
ing, for  that  night,  when  I  caught  sight  of  my- 
self in  the  glass  afther  looking  at  that  fair  young 
creature  as  she  lay  like  a  bruised  water-lily  on 
our  little  bed,  I  thought  how  much  there  was  in 
the  differ;  and  sure  I  couldn't  be  angry  that  she 
twined  round  poor  John's  heart,  when  I  knew 
how  she  had  twined  round  mine.  Didn't  we 
both  help  to  rear  her,  as  I  may  say  ?  and  the  only 
dread  in  life  I  shall  have,  I  know,  when  I  get 
over  the  disappointment,  will  be,  that  she  won't 
love  John  as  long  and  as  steadily  as  I  have  done.' 
My  wife,"  added  the  old  man,  "  is  anything  but 
tender-hearted,  yet  she  cried  like  a  child  to  hear 
Grace  talk  that  way ;  so  steady  in  herself,  and  all 
the  time  a  breaking  heart  painted  in  every  fea- 
ture of  her  face.  The  next  day  she  gave  back 
all  promises  to  John;  and  what  made  her 
stronger  in  her  resolution  than  anything  else,  was 
finding  that  Nelly  had  a  childish  fancy  for  him 
unbenownst  to  herself.  It  was  no  wonder  that 
she  should,  for  John  certainly  was  as  handsome 
a  boy  as  ever  crossed  a  chapel-green ;  but  he  must 
have  been  as  blind  as  a  star-fish  to  prefer  her  to 
Grace.  It  was  a  quare  thing — I  always  think 
it  as  wonderful  a  thing  as  ever  I  heerd  tell  of — 


CORK  49 

that  creature  watching  and  tending  the  restless, 
tiresome  girl,  nursing  her,  and  improving  her 
as  well  as  she  knew  how — and  for  what?  to  make 
her  a  fit  wife  for  the  man  she  had  looked  upon 
as  her  husband  for  more  than  five  years,  and 
loving  him  all  the  time.  My  wife  spoke  to  her 
once  about  it :  '  Let  me  alone,'  she  says,  '  every 
one  knows  what's  right  if  they  ask  their  own 
heart;  and  loving  them  both,  sure  I've  nothing 
left  me  in  the  world  to  seek  for  or  pray  for,  but 
just  the  happiness  of  them  two.  Well,  after  a 
good  deal  of  talking  about  it,  it  was  laid  out  a 
year  and  a  half  ago  that  John  was  to  go  off  to 
Australia,  and  when  he  had  got  settled  a  bit, 
send  home  for  Nelly,  and  that  she  was  to  go  out 
with  his  own  sister;  and  they  were  to  be  married 
there.  It  was  a  wonderful  thing  to  see  how 
Grace  bore  it,  and  how  she  slaved  to  keep  up 
everything  for  Nelly;  and  when  the  letter  came 
at  last  from  John,  for  Nell  and  his  sister  to  go 
out  in  the  next  ship,  I  never  shall  forget  the  face 
of  poor  Grace,  all  flushed  as  it  was,  coming  to  my 
wife  and  the  letter  open  in  her  hand — and  she 
read  every  word  of  it ;  how  everything  had  pros- 
pered that  he  took  in  hand,  and  how  John  prayed 
her  to  go  out  with  Nell,  and  called  her  '  sister,' 
and  how  Grace  almost  choked  at  the  word,  and 
— '  No,'  says  she,  '  never!  I  will  do  all  I  can  to 
make  them  happy  to  the  end  of  my  days,  as  I 
have  done;  but  to  stay  there  with  them — God 
forgive  me,'  she  says,  '  I  could  not  do  that.' 
Now,"  continued  the  old  man,  "  what  I  look  to 

is  this :  from  the  time  Grace  got  that  letter,  until 

v— i 


50  IRELAND 

this  blessed  morning,  all  her  thought  was  what 
she  could  make  out  to  send  that  sister  away  in 
the  best  manner.  I  am  sure,  as  I  am  of  the  light 
of  heaven,  that  since  she  was  born  she  never  did 
think  of  herself — no;  you  saw  her;  every  bit  of 
finery,  every  stitch  that  could  serve  her  sister, 
has  she  deprived  herself  of — for  what?  to  make 
that  sister  better  in  the  eyes  of  him  who  ought  to 
have  been  her  husband.  To  see  them  two  girls 
as  I  saw  them  this  morning,  Nelly  dressed  like 
any  lady,  and  those  that  had  time  whispering  of 
her  beauty — and  poor  Grace — as  she  is  now, 
with  nothing  but  the  downright  love  of  every 
heart  that  knows  her  to  keep  her  from  being  alone 
in  the  world;  to  see  her  with  her  fine  spirit  and 
high-up  thoughts  that  are  as  pure  as  God's  breath 
in  the  heavens — to  see  her  dressed  like  a  beggar, 
without  even  shoes  on  her  feet,  stripped,  as  one 
may  say,  for  the  sake  of  them  that  wracked  her 
happiness.  And  then  the  parting — how  she  kept 
up  her  own  sister's  and  his  sister's  hearts  to  the 
last  minute;  and  how  she  followed  the  steamer 
farther  than  any  of  the  people;  and  stood,  when 
it  left  her  sight,  in  that  spot,  looking  out  for 
hours,  as  if  to  see,  poor  girl,  what  she  will  never 
see  again.  '  Let  me  alone/  she  says  to  me,  and 
I  rasoning  with  her,  *  let  me  alone ;  af ther  to-day 
I'll  be  as  I  always  was.'  Ah,  then,  it  would  be 
a  heavy  lead  and  a  long  line  that  would  get  to 
the  bottom  of  her  heart's  love,'*  added  the  old 
fisherman;  "and  if  any  of  us  could  have  the 
satisfaction  of  hearing  her  complain — but  no,  not 
she,  not  a  murmur — only  all  cheerful,  patient, 


CORK  51 

loving,  sweetness;  yet  I'm  afraid  that  all  this 
time  there's  a  canker  in  her  own  heart.  And 
there's  my  son,  who  would  Mss  the  print  of  her 
bare  foot  in  a  dirty  road — she  won't  look  at  him," 
said  the  old  man  pettishly ;  "  but  I  don't  care 
whether  she  does  or  not,  Grace  Connell  shall 
never  want  a  FATHER." 

To  the  city  of  Cork  belongs  the  honour  of 
forwarding  and  establishing — if  it  did  not  orig- 
inate— one  of  the  most  extraordinary  moral  rev- 
olutions which  the  history  of  the  world  records; 
we  speak  of  the  "  Temperance  Movement,"  at 
the  head  of  which  is  the  Very  Rev.  Theobald 
Mathew,  a  Capuchin  friar,  and  superior  of  the 
order.  The  subject  is  one  of  such  vital  impor- 
tance, and  such  immense  results  have  already 
arisen  from  it,  that  we  shall  offer  no  apology  for 
entering  into  it  at  some  length. 

For  centuries  past,  drunkenness  was  the  shame 
and  the  bane  of  Ireland;  an  Irishman  had  be- 
come proverbial  for  intoxication,  and  that  with- 
out reference  to  his  rank  in  society;  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest — from 

"  The  peer 
Who  killed  himself  for  love — with  wine — last  year," 

to  the  peasant  who  "  goes  to  a  tent,"  where 

"  He  spends  half-a-crown, 
Then  meets  with  a  friend,  and  for  love  knocks  him  down," 

the  portraiture  was  invariably  the  same;  and  to 
picture  an  Irishman  truly,  either  by  words  or 
on  canvas,  or  to  represent  him  accurately  on  the 


52  IHELAND 

stage,  it  was  considered  indispensable  that  he 
should  be  drunk. 

A  manifest  improvement  had  of  late  years 
taken  place  among  the  higher  classes ;  we  are  our- 
selves old  enough  to  recollect  when  a  host  would 
have  been  scouted  as  mean  and  inhospitable,  who 
had  suffered  one  of  his  guests  to  leave  his  table 
sober.  Ingenious  devices  were  invented  for  com- 
pelling intoxication ;  glasses  and  bottles  so  formed 
that  they  could  not  stand,  and  must  be  emptied 
before  they  could  be  laid  upon  the  table — the  ob- 
ject being  to  pass  the  wine  rapidly  round — were 
in  frequent  use.  We  dined  once  with  a  large 
party  where  the  tea-kettle — from  which  the 
tumblers  were  supplied — had  been  filled  with 
heated  whiskey;  the  partakers  of  the  "cheer" 
being  too  "  far  gone "  to  perceive  they  were 
strengthening  their  punch  instead  of  making  it 
weaker.  If  a  guest  were  able  to  mount  his  horse 
without  assistance,  in  the  "  good  old  times,"  he 
was  presented  with  a  "  deoch  an  durrass  "  6  glass, 
which  he  was  forced,  seldom  against  his  will,  to 
"  drink  at  the  door."  This  glass  usually  held  a 
quart :  it  was  terminated  by  a  globe,  which  of  it- 
self contained  a  "  drop  "  sufficient  to  complete 
the  business  of  the  night.  The  degradation  was 
looked  upon  as  a  distinction ;  an  Irishman  drunk 
was  an  Irishman  "  all  in  his  glory; "  and  a 
"  strong  head  "  was  considered  an  enviable  pos- 
session. Many  years  ago  we  were  acquainted 
with  a  gentleman  at  Ross-Carbery,  whose  daily 
"  stint  "  was  five-and-twenty  tumblers  of  whiskey 
punch,  of  the  ordinary  strength;  and  we  knew 


CORK  53 

another,  whose  frequent  boast  it  was,  that  in  a 
long  life  he  had  drunk  enough  to  float  a  seventy- 
four  gun  ship. 

Among  the  gentry,  however,  this  most  perni- 
cious practice  has  been  latterly  not  only  in  dis- 
use, but  treated  as  disreputable  and  disgraceful; 
and  gentlemen  after  dinner  have  ceased  to  be 
disgusting  in  the  drawing-room.  Yet  the  mid- 
dling and  humbler  classes  had  undergone  little 
or  no  change.  The  vigilance  of  the  excise,  and 
a  large  reduction  of  the  tax  on  spirits,  had  indeed 
destroyed  the  illicit  trade  in  whiskey,  and  made 
the  private  still  a  rarity ;  but  it  was  so  cheap  that 
any  man,  comparatively  unpractised,  might  drink 
himself  into  a  state  of  insanity  for  fourpence. 
The  extent  of  the  evil  almost  exceeds  belief;  in 
the  towns  and  villages  every  other  house  was 
"  licensed  to  sell  spirits,"  or  sold  them  without  a 
license.  Fairs,  wakes,  and  funerals,  were  scenes 
of  frightful  excess:  in  the  former,  men  seldom 
met  without  a  "  fight,"  and  the  ensuing  assizes 
always  furnished  a  terrible  illustration  of  the 
consequences;  at  the  latter,  the  "merriment" 
excited  by  drink  was  unnatural  and  revolting; 
and  very  often  a  year's  produce  of  the  small 
farmer  was  consumed  in  a  night.  These  degrad- 
ing characteristics  of  "  old  Ireland "  we  shall 
have  to  describe  hereafter.  In  brief,  wherever 
twenty  persons  assembled  within  reach  of  spirits, 
nineteen  of  them  were  certain  to  be  drunk.  It 
is  unnecessary  to  add,  that  nearly  all  the  outrages 
that  were  committed  were  the  results  of  intoxi- 
cation ;  or  rather,  that  drink  was  the  preparation 


54  IRELAND 

for  every  atrocity.  We  are  prepared  with 
abundant  proofs  (the  various  authorities  we  con- 
sulted were  agreed  upon  the  fact),  that  in  every 
instance  in  which  murder  was  either  perpetrated 
or  attempted,  the  murderer  had  previously  fitted 
himself,  or  been  fitted,  for  the  work,  by  draughts 
of  whiskey;  leaving  him  just  sense  and  strength 
enough  to  execute  the  act  contemplated.  We  do 
not  go  too  far  in  saying,  that  all  the  mischievous 
tendencies  of  the  lower  Irish  may  be  traced  to 
their  habitual  intoxication ;  while  it  originated  and 
kept  up  their  poverty  and  wretchedness — wither- 
ing and  destroying  all  it  could  reach. 

As  with  the  aristocracy,  so  with  the  people; 
drunkenness  was  inculcated  as  a  merit,  and  al- 
most as  a  duty.  A  large  proportion  of  the  songs 
popular  among  the  peasantry  were  in  praise  of 
whiskey,  and  very  few  of  them  were  without 
some  reference  to  it.  One  of  them  blesses  the 
Pope  and  the  Council  of  Trent,  who 

"  Laid  fast  upon  mate,  and  not  upon  drink." 

It  was  "  mate,  drink,  and  clothing;  "  "  father  and 
mother,  and  sister  and  brother ;  "  "  my  outside 
coat — I'll  have  no  other;  "  "  mavourneen,  my  joy 
and  my  jewel;  "  "  vein  of  my  heart;  "  "  life-en- 
dearing, humour-lending,  mirth-increasing;  "  "a 
cordial  for  all  ages,  that  each  evil  assuages :  " — 
in  short,  whiskey  was  the  panacea  recommended 
in  song  for  aH  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to. 

While,  therefore,  the  rich  had  their  incitements 
to  drink  supplied  to  them  in  delicately-turned 
rhymes — 


CORK  55 

"  To  wreathe  the  bowl  with  flowers  of  soul ;  " 

the  humble  were  lured  to  intoxication  by  the  rude 
lays  of  their  village  poets — 

"  A  glass  of  whiskey  to  make  us  frisky." 

We  cannot  soon  forget  the  figure  of  a  fine  stal- 
wart fellow  we  once  saw  staggering  homeward 
from  Limerick,  whirling  his  shillelah,  and  every 
now  and  then  sending  a  shout — a  "  whoop  hurra  " 
over  the  mountains,  as  he  finished  his  song  of  a 
single  verse,  and  so  described  the  class  to  which 
he  belonged: — 

"  The  never  a  day  have  I  for  drink 
But  Saturday,  Sunday,  Monday, 
Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday — 
Och !  the  dickens  a  day  have  I  for  drink 
But  Saturday,  Sunday,  Monday — 

Whoop  hurra — 
Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday !  " 

All  attempts  to  check  the  progress  of  intem- 
perance were  fruitless;  it  had  long  been  custom- 
ary, indeed,  to  take  oaths  to  abstain  from  drink 
for  a  season — but,  if  kept,  they  produced  no 
permanent  good;  and  the  tricks  and  shifts 
to  evade  them  were  generally  successful.  We 
recollect  a  man  swearing  he  would  not  drink 
for  a  month — he  soaked  bread  in  spirits  and 
ate  it;  another,  who  swore  he  would  not  touch 
liquor  while  he  stood  "  on  earth,"  got  drunk  amid 
the  branches  of  a  tree;  another  who  vowed  not 
to  touch  a  drop  "  in  doors  or  out,"  strode  across 
his  threshold,  placing  one  leg  inside  and  the  other 


56  IRELAND 

outside — and  so,  persuading  himself  he  did  not 
break  his  oath,  drank  until  he  fell;  another  who 
bound  himself  not  to  "  touch  liquor  in  the  parish," 
brought  a  sod  of  turf  from  a  distance,  and 
placed  his  foot  upon  it  when  he  resolved  to  drink. 
We  knew  one  who  was  kept  sober  thus:  he  was 
always  willing  to  take  an  oath  against  whiskey 
for  six  weeks,  but  no  longer;  his  master  invari- 
ably watched  the  day  on  which  "  his  time  "  ex- 
pired, and  compelled  him  to  repeat  his  oath; 
which  he  would  readily  do  after  swallowing  two 
glasses.  To  make  the  Irish  abstain,  even  to  a 
moderate  extent,  was,  therefore,  considered  a 
hopeless  task ;  and  he  would  have  been  a  visionary 
indeed,  who  foretold  a  time  when  a  drunken 
Irishman  would  be  a  far  greater  rarity  than  a 
sober  one. 

The  frightful  nature  and  extent  of  the  evil 
had  long  been  fully  understood,  and  exertions  had 
been  made  to  lessen  it.  On  the  20th  of  August, 
1829,  the  Rev.  George  Carr,  a  clergyman  of  the 
Established  Church,  a  near  and  dear  connexion 
of  our  own,  established  the  first  Temperance 
Society  of  Ireland  in  the  town  of  New  Ross. 
He  had  read  some  American  newspapers  which 
contained  encouraging  accounts  of  the  progress 
the  principle  was  making  in  the  New  World — 
we  quote  his  own  words — and  saw  at  once  "  that 
there  was  no  country  where  it  was  so  much  needed 
as  Ireland;  not  only  as  removing  the  national 
stain  of  drunkenness,  but,  by  its  operations,  rais- 
ing a  platform  on  which  all  parties  could  meet 
without  compromise  of,  or  interference  with,  their 


CORK  57 

respective  principles,  either  political  or  religious." 
Having  been  called  upon  to  attend  a  meeting 
of  the  Bible  Society,  at  a  Quakers'  meeting-house, 
he  took  occasion  to  request  that  his  auditors 
would  remain  in  order  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say 
on  the  subject  of  temperance.  They  heard  him, 
were  satisfied  with  his  arguments,  adopted  his 
plans,  and  the  work  was  at  once  commenced.7 
For  several  years,  however,  but  little  way  was 
made :  the  advocates  of  temperance  were  exposed 
to  contempt  and  laughter  as  idle  dreamers;  a 
coffee  tent,  which  they  erected  at  fairs,  was  an 
object  of  ridicule;  and  although  they  had  not 
abandoned  hope,  their  efforts  were  comparatively 
fruitless,  and  the  most  sanguine  among  them  in- 
dulged in  no  idea  of  large  success. 

Shortly  afterwards  a  temperance  society  was 
formed  in  Cork;  the  example  of  New  Ross  hav- 
ing, by  the  way,  been  followed  in  many  other 
towns.  Among  its  leading  members  were  the 
Rev.  Nicholas  Dunscombe,  Mr.  William  Martin, 
a  Quaker,  and  two  tradesmen,  Mr.  Olden,  a 
slater,  and  Mr.  Connell,  a  tailor;  they  conceived 
the  idea  of  consigning  the  important  task  into 
the  hands  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mathew,  then  highly 
popular  in  the  city,  and  so  liberal  in  his  opinions 
as  to  be  respected  by  all  classes.  He  met  these 
gentlemen,  seriously  pondered  over  their  plans 
and  the  probabilities  of  succeeding,  and  ulti- 
mately, though  not  immediately,  joined  them — • 
"  hand  and  heart."  The  road  had  thus  been  to 
some  extent  opened  for  him ;  and  it  is  unquestion- 
able that  the  gradual  although  limited  improve- 


58  IRELAND 

ment  which  had  taken  place  in  the  character  of 
the  peasantry  had  greatly  facilitated  his  progress. 
Notions  of  thrift,  an  appreciation  of  comforts 
easy  of  attainment,  and  a  conviction  that  a  skilful 
application  of  industry  might  double  the  produce 
of  the  poor  man's  "  bit  of  land,"  had  been  taught 
them  by  causes  to  which  we  have  already  referred, 
and  had  made  them  willing  rather  than  averse 
listeners.  The  comparative  dearth  of  topics  for 
agitation,  too,  had  left  their  minds  at  leisure  to 
receive  lessons,  to  which,  a  few  years  ago,  they 
would  have  paid  no  attention. 

On  the  10th  of  April,  1838,  "  the  Cork  Total 
Abstinence  Society "  was  formed.  It  is  cer- 
tain that  Mr.  Mathew  never  for  a  moment  an- 
ticipated the  wonderful  results  that  were  to  fol- 
low its  establishment,  and  probably  was  as  much 
astonished  as  any  person  in  the  kingdom,  when 
he  found  not  only  thousands  but  millions  enter- 
ing into  a  compact  with  him  "  to  abstain  from  the 
use  of  all  intoxicating  drinks  " — and  keeping  it. 
His  Cork  society  was  joined  by  members  from 
very  distant  parts — from  the  mountains  of  Kerry, 
from  the  wild  sea-cliffs  of  Clare,  from  the  banks 
of  the  Shannon,  and  from  places  still  further  off ; 
until  at  length  he  formed  the  resolution  of  dedi- 
cating his  whole  time,  and  devoting  his  entire 
energies,  to  attain  the  great  object  he  now  knew 
to  be  within  his  reach.  He  has  travelled  through 
nearly  every  district  of  Ireland;  held  meetings 
in  nearly  every  town;  and  on  the  10th  October, 
1840,  his  list  of  members  contained  upwards  of 


CORK  59 

two  millions  five  hundred  and  thirty  thousand 
names. 

Previously  to  our  latest  visit  to  Ireland,  we 
had  entertained,  in  common  with  many  others, 
strong  doubts — first,  as  to  the  actual  extent  of 
the  reformation;  next,  as  to  the  likelihood  of  its 
durability;  and  next,  as  to  whether  some  latent 
danger  might  not  lurk  under  a  change  so  sudden, 
so  unaccountable  by  any  ordinary  rules,  and  so 
opposed  to  the  character  and  constitution  of  the 
Irish  people.  As  in  our  case  these  doubts  have 
been  entirely  dispelled,  it  is  our  duty  to  labour 
to  remove  them  from  the  minds  of  those  of  our 
readers  by  whom  they  may  still  be  entertained. 

In  reference  to  the  extent  to  which  sobriety 
has  spread,  it  will  be  almost  sufficient  to  state, 
that  during  our  recent  stay  in  Ireland,  from  the 
10th  of  June  to  the  6th  of  September,  1840,  we 
saw  but  six  persons  intoxicated;  and  that  for  the 
first  thirty  days  we  had  not  encountered  one. 
In  the  course  of  that  month  we  had  travelled 
from  Cork  to  Killarney — round  the  coast;  re- 
turning by  the  inland  route ;  not  along  mail-coach 
roads,  but  on  a  "  jaunting  car,"  through  byways 
as  well  as  highways;  visiting  small  villages  and 
populous  towns ;  driving  through  fairs ;  attending 
wakes  and  funerals  (returning  from  one  of 
which,  between  Glengariff  and  Kenmare,  at 
nightfall,  we  met  at  least  a  hundred  substantial 
farmers,  mounted) ;  in  short,  wherever  crowds 
were  assembled,  and  we  considered  it  likely  we 
might  gather  information  as  to  the  state  of  the 


60  IRELAND 

country  and  the  character  of  its  people.  We  re- 
peat, we  did  not  meet  a  single  individual  who 
appeared  to  have  tasted  spirits;  and  we  do  not 
hesitate  to  express  our  conviction,  that  two  years 
ago,  in  the  same  places  and  during  the  same  time, 
we  should  have  encountered  many  thousand 
drunken  men.  From  first  to  last,  we  employed, 
perhaps,  fifty  car-drivers:  we  never  found  one 
to  accept  a  drink;  the  boatmen  at  Killarney, 
proverbial  for  drunkenness,  insubordination,  and 
recklessness  of  life,  declined  the  whiskey  we  had 
taken  with  us  for  the  bugle-player,  who  was  not 
"  pledged,"  and  after  hours  of  hard  labour, 
dipped  a  can  into  the  lake  and  refreshed  them- 
selves from  its  waters.  It  was  amusing  as  well  as 
gratifying  to  hear  their  new  reading  of  the  ad- 
dress to  the  famous  echo :  "  Paddy  Blake,  plase 
yer  honour,  the  gintleman  promises  ye  some 
coffee  whin  ye  get  home ;  "  and  on  the  Black- 
water,  a  muddy  river,  as  its  name  denotes,  our 
boat's  crew  put  into  shore,  midway  between 
Youghal  and  Lismore,  to  visit  a  clear  spring, 
with  the  whereabouts  of  which  they  were  familiar. 
The  whiskey-shops  are  closed  or  converted  into 
coffee-houses;  the  distilleries  have,  for  the  most 
part,  ceased  to  work ;  and  the  breweries  are  barely 
able  to  maintain  a  trade  sufficient  to  prevent  en- 
tire stoppage.8  Of  the  extent  of  the  change, 
therefore,  we  have  had  ample  experience;  and  it 
is  borne  out  by  the  assurances  of  so  many  who 
live  in  towns  as  well  as  in  the  country,  that  we 
can  have  no  hesitation  in  describing  sobriety  to 
be  almost  universal  throughout  Ireland. 


CORK  61 

For  its  continuance  we  look,  not  only  with 
earnest  hope,  but  with  entire  confidence.  We 
are  not  sanguine  enough  to  expect  that  the  whole 
of  the  millions  will  endure  to  the  end;  but  that 
a  very  large  proportion  of  them  will  persevere 
there  cannot  be  a  rational  doubt.  Intoxication 
now-a-days,  instead  of  being  a  glory,  is  a  re- 
proach; the  people  look  upon  a  drunken  man, 
not  with  sympathy  or  even  tolerance,  but  with 
absolute  disgust,  and  point  him  out  to  their  chil- 
dren as  the  Spartans  did  their  helots — as  a  les- 
son, not  to  be  forgotten,  against  vice.  This, 
alone,  affords  a  certain  degree  of  security  against 
any  large  return  to  evil  habits.9  But  we  trust, 
mainly,  to  the  comforts,  small  luxuries,  and 
guarantees  against  periodical  visitations  of  want, 
that  will  be  obtained  by  the  people,  whose  earn- 
ings were  formerly  squandered  at  "  shebeen 
shops."  One  or  two  facts  out  of  the  many  at  our 
command  may  illustrate  this  view  of  the  case 
better  than  argument.  In  1838,  while  on  a  visit 
to  a  relative  in  Limerick,  for  the  purpose  of  fish- 
ing on  the  all-glorious  Shannon,  our  friend  had 
engaged  the  services  of  a  boatman ;  and,  in  order 
that  he  might  make  a  decent  appearance  before 
the  "  strangers,"  sent  him,  the  night  previous  to 
our  first  excursion,  a  suit  of  clothes.  The  next 
morning  he  was,  as  usual,  in  rags.  "  Come, 
Terence,"  said  our  friend,  "  make  haste  and  dress 
yourself,  or  we  shall  lose  our  tide."  "  Be  dad, 
sir,  the  woman's  gone  out  and  tuck  the  key  o' 
the  small  box  wid  her;  never  mind  de  clothes  to- 
day, Master  John."  Master  John  threw  the 


62  IRELAND 

man  a  shilling,  and  saying,  "  That  will  pay  for 
a  new  lock,"  took  up  a  boat  rowel,  and  was  about 
to  enter  the  cottage — shrewdly  guessing  at  the 
truth  however — to  break  open  the  box.  An  ex- 
planation took  place;  the  man  had  pawned  the 
gift,  and  on  inquiry  we  learned  had  spent  in  whis- 
key every  farthing  of  the  sum  obtained.  We  en- 
tered his  cabin;  his  wife  was  stretched,  still  in- 
sensible, on  the  wet  floor;  his  children  were  cry- 
ing on  a  mass  of  damp  straw  in  a  corner ;  nothing 
like  food  was  to  be  seen;  the  man,  naturally  one 
of  the  finest-looking  fellows  we  had  ever  met, 
at  least  six  feet  high,  and  with  remarkably  hand- 
some features,  was  half-stupefied  from  the  effects 
of  the  night's  debauch;  a  more  deplorable  illus- 
tration of  the  effects  of  drunkenness  we  could 
not  have  obtained  in  Ireland.  He  was  earning 
sufficient  to  procure  every  comfort;  his  skill  as 
an  angler  was  so  great  and  so  generally  esti- 
mated, that  he  was  always  sure  of  employment; 
yet  his  cottage  was  a  picture  of  entire  wretched- 
ness, and  gave  evidence  only  of  utter  depravity. 
On  our  entreating  our  friend  to  procure  another 
boatman,  his  answer  was,  that  they  were  all  alike, 
this  one  having  the  merit  of  being,  drunk  or 
sober,  a  degree  more  civil,  safe,  and  skilful  than 
the  rest.  A  few  days  afterwards,  on  going  as 
usual  to  our  boat,  we  found  him  absent;  he  was 
in  jail,  having  in  a  fit  of  drunkenness  cruelly 
beaten  his  wife,  who,  drunk  also,  had  bitten  his 
hand  so  as  terribly  to  maim  it.  After  much  hesi- 
tation we  procured  his  release,  having  first  seen 
him  take,  in  the  prison-yard,  a  solemn  oath  not 


CORK  63 

to  touch  whiskey  for  three  months.  Next  morn- 
ing, the  fellow  was  so  drunk  that  we  could  not 
take  him  with  us.  A  more  hopeless  case  it  was 
scarcely  possible  to  imagine.  We  have  not  seen 
him  since.  But  we  learn  that,  twelve  months 
ago,  he  "  took  the  pledge,"  that  he  is  altogether 
reformed,  and  his  wife  with  him;  that  they  and 
their  children  are  well  clad,  amply  fed,  and  their 
cottage  clean,  comfortable,  and  sufficiently  fur- 
nished; that  the  man  visits  the  savings  bank 
as  often  as  he  used  to  do  the  pawn-office;  and 
that  a  finer  or  more  healthy  looking  fellow 
never  steered  a  "  cot "  among  the  perilous 
breakers  of  the  rapid  Shannon.  Of  their  relapse 
into  want,  misery,  and  degradation,  there  cannot 
be  much  danger. 

We  entered  one  day  a  cottage  in  a  suburb  of 
Cork:  a  woman  was  knitting  stockings  at  the 
door;  it  was  as  neat  and  comfortable  as  any  in 
the  most  prosperous  district  of  England.  We 
tell  her  brief  story  in  her  own  words,  as  nearly 
as  we  can  recall  them: — "  My  husband  is  a  wheel- 
wright, and  always  earned  his  guinea  a  week;  he 
was  a  good  workman,  and  neither  a  bad  man  nor 
a  bad  husband,  but  the  love  for  the  drink  was 
strong  in  him;  and  it  wasn't  often  he  brought 
me  home  more  than  five  shillings  out  of  his  one- 
pound-one  on  a  Saturday  night;  and  it  broke 
my  heart  to  see  the  poor  childer  too  ragged  to 
send  to  school,  to  say  nothing  of  the  starved  look 
they  had  out  of  the  little  I  could  give  them. 
Well,  God  be  praised!  he  took  the  pledge;  and 
the  next  Saturday  he  laid  twenty-one  shillings 


64  IRELAND 

upon  the  chair  you  sit  upon.  Oh!  didn't  I  give 
thanks  on  my  bended  knees  that  night!  Still, 
I  was  fearful  it  wouldn't  last,  and  I  spent  no 
more  than  the  five  shillings  I  was  used  to,  saying 
to  myself,  maybe  the  money  will  be  more  wanted 
than  it  is  now.  Well,  the  next  week  he  brought 
me  the  same,  and  the  next,  and  the  next,  until 
eight  weeks  passed;  and,  glory  be  to  God!  there 
was  no  change  for  the  bad  in  my  husband;  and 
all  the  while  he  never  asked  me  why  there  was 
nothing  better  for  him  out  of  his  hard  earnings: 
so  I  felt  there  was  no  fear  of  him ;  and  the  ninth 
week  when  he  came  home  to  me,  I  had  this  table 
bought  and  these  six  chairs ;  one  for  myself,  four 
for  the  children,  and  one  for  himself.  And  I 
was  dressed  in  a  new  gown,  and  the  children  all 
had  new  clothes,  and  shoes  and  stockings,  and 
upon  his  own  chair  I  put  a  bran-new  suit;  and 
upon  his  plate  I  put  the  bill  and  resate  for  them 
all — just  the  eight  sixteen  shillings  they  cost, 
that  I'd  saved  out  of  his  wages,  not  knowing 
what  might  happen,  and  that  always  before  went 
for  drink.  And  he  cried,  good  lady  and  good 
gentleman,  he  cried  like  a  baby — but  'twas  with 
thanks  to  God;  and  now  where's  the  healthier 
man  than  my  husband  in  the  County  Cork;  or 
a  happier  wife  than  myself ;  or  dacenter  or  better 
fed  children  than  our  own  four? "  It  is  most 
unlikely  that  such  a  family  will  again  sink  into 
poverty  and  wretchedness.  We  might  add 
largely  to  these  cases,  not  only  from  what  we 
have  heard,  but  what  we  have  seen.10 

But  there  are  some — there  may  be  many — •• 


CORK  65 

who,  while  they  offer  willing  evidence  to  the  great 
good  achieved  by  the  Temperance  movement, 
alarm  themselves  and  others  by  "  the  baseless 
fabric  of  a  vision,"  and  imagine  that  danger  to 
the  State  lurks  under  the  shadow  of  the  great 
tree  that  has  grown  so  rapidly  out  of  the  small 
seed.  Few  apprehensions  can  be  more  opposed 
to  reason,  and  none  to  fact.  Thoughtless  or  un- 
principled agitators  may  create  prejudice  against 
the  system  by  assuming,  that  out  of  its  materi- 
als— its  "  three  millions  " — sedition  may  be 
wrought ;  but  the  comparative  failure  of  all  their 
recent  projects  supplies  the  best  answer  to  as- 
sertions they  know  to  be  utterly  groundless.11 
The  easy  in  circumstances,  and  the  compara- 
tively independent,  are  not  the  tools  that  wrong- 
minded  men  work  with;  the  leaders  in  sedition, 
the  prompters  and  counsellors  to  outrage,  never 
contemplated  proceeding  to  action  until  they  had 
made  their  followers  unconscious  of  what  they 
were  doing.  It  is,  as  we  have  stated,  incon- 
trovertible that  nine-tenths  of  the  crimes  com- 
mitted in  Ireland  have  been  traced  to  drunken- 
ness— it  has  thronged  the  prisons,  filled  the 
lunatic  asylums,  and  was  the  great  source  of  the 
revenue  of  the  coroner.  Our  readers  may  be  as- 
sured that  the  Temperance  movement  has  not 
only  no  connection  with  any  secret  or  disaffected 
societies,  but  that  it  strikes  at  the  root  of  all  il- 
legal combinations,  and  is  the  strongest  and  safest 
supporter  of  law  and  justice.  In  reference  to 
no  other  country  of  the  world,  indeed,  would  the 

suspicion  arise,  that  what  is  so  good  in  itself  was 
v— s 


66  IRELAND 

projected  for  a  bad  purpose,  and  tended  to  evil; 
it  is  equally  unwise,  unjust,  and  cruel,  to  sup- 
pose that  the  Irish  are  the  only  exceptions  to  so 
universal  a  rule;  and  have  become  sober  that 
they  may  be  more  dangerous  to  society,  and  more 
fatal  enemies  to  its  established  institutions.12 

We  hope  our  testimony  may  be  accepted — 
for  our  opinions,  both  religious  and  political,  are 
certainly  not  of  a  nature  to  bias  us  unduly — 
when  we  state  that  we  never  knew  Ireland  so 
contented,  so  tranquil,  or  so  likely  to  become 
prosperous,  as  we  found  it  during  the  autumn  of 
the  year  1840. 

During  our  stay  in  Cork,  we  were  naturally 
anxious  to  meet  Mr.  Mathew:  for  immediately 
after  our  arrival  in  that  city,  we  had  noted  the 
wonderful  and  merciful  changes  his  exertions, 
chiefly,  had  wrought.  He  resides  in  a  bye-street, 
running  off  from  one  of  the  old  quays.  Here 
we  saw  him  administer  "  the  pledge."  The  neo- 
phyte receives  it  kneeling,  and  repeats,  after  the 
priest,  the  following  words : — 

"  I  promise  to  abstain  from  all  intoxicating 
drinks,  except  used  medicinally,  and  by  order 
of  a  medical  man,  and  to  discountenance  the  cause 
and  practice  of  intemperance." 

Mr.  Mathew  then  marks  on  his  forehead  the 
sign  of  the  cross,  and  says,  "  God  give  you 
strength  to  keep  your  resolution." 

Nothing  can  be  more  primitive  or  simple.  A 
medal  and  a  card  are  then  delivered  to  the  mem- 
ber.13 It  would  puzzle  the  most  prejudiced  or 
suspicious  to  point  out  a  single  word  or  object 


L.  A 


T 


CORK  67 

engraved  on  either,  against  which  objection  might 
be  taken.  As  the  safest  mode  of  satisfying  our 
readers  on  this  head,  we  have  thought  it  desirable 
to  procure  an  engraving  of  the  medal.  (See 
Plate  No.  2. )  The  card  is  a  copy  of  the  medal, 
with  the  addition  of  two  prints,  one  of  "  Temper- 
ance," picturing  a  happy  cottage  home,  sur- 
mounted by  a  bee-hive ;  the  other,  of  "  Intemper- 
ance," describing  a  wretched  hovel  and  its 
miserable  inmates;  above  it  is  a  lighted  candle, 
into  the  flame  of  which  a  poor  moth  rushes,  and  a 
bottle,  round  which  a  serpent  coils.  It  contains 
also  a  passage  from  the  Acts,  "  He  reasoned  of 
righteousness,  temperance,  and  judgment  to 
come." 

There  is,  consequently,  nothing  of  "  supersti- 
tion "  associated  with  the  perpetual  reminder  of 
the  "  pledge ;  "  although,  beyond  doubt,  super- 
stitious ideas  are  mixed  up  with  it — a  large  pro- 
portion of  those  who  have  taken  it  conceiving  that 
a  breach  of  their  promise  would  entail  some  fear- 
ful visitation.  They  go  farther  than  this :  many 
of  the  pledged  believe  that  Mr.  Mathew  pos- 
sesses the  power  to  heal  diseases,  and  preserve  his 
followers  from  all  spiritual  and  physical  dangers 
— an  error  which  Mr.  Mathew  does  not  labour  to 
remove,  although  he  is,  certainly,  not  charged 
with  having  striven  to  introduce  or  extend  it.14 
We  cannot  but  lament  the  existence  of  this  evil; 
yet  all  who  know  the  Irish  peasantry  know  that 
an  attempt  to  direct  or  control  them  by  mere 
appeals  to  reason  must  be  utterly  vain.  It 
should  also  be  borne  in  mind,  that  it  is  by  no- 


68  IRELAND 

means  a  new  thing  with  them  to  connect  super- 
stitious notions  with  their  clergy. 

We  may,  perhaps,  interest  our  readers  by  giv- 
ing them  some  details  of  our  visit  to  Mr.  Mathew. 
The  room  in  which  members  are  received  is  large, 
and  furnished  with  a  desk  and  wooden  benches. 
When  we  entered  it,  "  the  President  "  was  not 
there,  but  there  were  men  and  women  of  all  ages, 
waiting  to  take  the  pledge:  among  them  was  a 
sturdy  mountaineer  from  Kerry — a  fine  athletic 
fellow  who  had  led  his  "  faction  "  for  a  quarter 
of  a  century,  whose  head  was  scarred  in  at  least 
a  dozen  places,  and  who  had  been  renowned 
throughout  the  country  for  his  prowess  at  every 
fair  within  twenty  miles  of  his  home.  He  had 
long  been  a  member  of  this  society,  and  had 
brought  a  few  of  his  "  friends  "  to  follow  his  ex- 
ample. He  described  to  us,  with  natural  and 
forcible  eloquence,  the  effect  of  temperance  in 
producing  peace  between  man  and  man  in  his 
own  immediate  neighbourhood — in  terminating 
the  brutal  fights  between  two  notorious  and  nu- 
merous factions,  the  Cooleens  and  the  Lawlors, 
whose  names  had  figured  in  every  criminal  cal- 
endar for  a  century  back.  "  No  matter  what 
was  doing,  it  was  left  undone,"  he  said,  "  if  any 
one  of  either  party  chose  to  call  up  the  rest. 
They'd  leave  the  hay  half -cut,  or  the  oats  to  be 
shelled  by  the  four  winds  of  heaven ;  and,  taking 
the  hay-fork,  the  reaping-hook,  and  the  scythe 
in  their  hands,  they'd  rush  out  to  massacre  each 
other.  Tubs  of  potheen  would  be  drunk  hot 
from  the  mountain  stills;  and  then,  whooping 


CORK  69 

and  hallooing  like  wild  Indians,  they'd  mingle  in 
the  unnatural  war  of  Irishman  against  Irishman. 
I've  known  them  fight  so  on  the  sea-shore,  that 
the  sea  has  come  in  and  drowned  those  that  had 
fallen  drunk  in  the  fray.  How  is  it  now?  At 
the  last  fair  at  Tralee,  there  wasn't  a  stick  lifted. 
There  was  peace  between  the  factions,  and  the, 
Cooleens  and  the  Lawlors  met,  for  the  first  time 
in  the  memory  of  man,  without  laving  a  dead  boy 
to  be  carried  home  to  the  widow's  cabin." 

We  must  detain  our  readers  while  we  relate 
another  incident  which  touched  us  deeply.  A 
lean,  pale,  haggard-looking  man — so  striking  a 
contrast  to  the  Kerry  farmer  as  to  be  absolutely 
startling — advanced  to  the  table  at  which  sate 
the  patient  and  good-tempered  secretary  to  the 
society,  and  asked  him  if  his  Reverence  would  be 
in  shortly.  A  pretty,  delicate-looking  young 
woman,  very  scantily  clad,  but  perfectly  clean, 
was  looking  over  his  shoulder  as  he  asked  the 
question.  "  I  think  I  have  seen  you  before,  my 
good  man,"  said  the  secretary,  "  and  it's  not  many 
weeks  ago." 

"  It  was  more  his  brother  than  he,  sir — it  was 
indeed,"  answered  the  haggard  man's  wife,  curt- 
seying, and  advancing  a  little  before  her  husband. 

He  interrupted  her — "  Don't  try  to  screen  me, 
Nelly,  good  girl,  don't — God  knows,  Nelly,  I 
don't  deserve  it  from  you.  See  the  way  I  beat 
her  last  night,  gentlemen,  on  both  arms,  like  a 
brute  as  I  was — " 

"  It  wasn't  you,  dear,"  said  the  young  woman, 
drawing  her  thin  shawl  more  closely  over  her 


70  IRELAND 

bruised  limbs :  "It  was  the  strength  of  the  spirits 
did  it,  and  not  himself — he's  as  quiet  a  man  as 
there's  in  the  city  o'  Cork  when  he's  sober — and 
as  fine  a  workman — and  he  wouldn't  hurt  a  hair 
of  my  head — barring  he  was  in  liquor " 

The  poor  creature's  affectionate  appeal  on  be- 
half of  her  erring  husband  was  interrupted  by 
the  secretary  again  demanding  if  he  had  not 
taken  the  pledge  before. 

"  I  did,  sir — Stand  back,  Nelly,  and  don't  try 
to  screen  me! — I  came  here  and  took  it  from 
Father  Mac  Leod — and,  God  forgive  me,  I 
broke  it  too.  I  broke  it  last  night,  or  rather  all 
day  yesterday,  and " 

"  Never  heed  telling  any  more  about  it,  James 
dear,"  said  his  wife,  eagerly;  "never  heed  tell- 
ing any  more  about  it.  A  man  may  be  overtaken 
once,  and  yet  make  a  fine  Christian  afther  all. 
You  wouldn't  be  sending  him  from  the  priest's 
knee,  sir,  because  he  broke  it  once, — when,  as  I 
said  before,  it  was  his  brother  was  in  it,  and  not 
he,  only  for  company." 

"  I  had  no  heart  to  come  this  morning — only 
for  her,"  said  the  husband;  "  she  remembered  his 
Reverence  preaching  about  there  being  more  joy 
in  heaven  over  one  like  me,  than  over  ninety  and 
nine  good  men.  Oh!  if  she  would  only  let  me 
tell  the  wickedness  of  my  past  life,  and  the  sin 
and  shame  that  has  followed  me " 

"  It  was  the  drink,  James,  it  was  the  drink," 
reiterated  the  wife  earnestly;  "  don't  be  distress- 
ing yourself,  for  it  was  nothing  but  the  drink. 
Sure,  when  sober,  there  isn't  a  more  loving  bus- 


CORK  71 

band  or  a  tenderer  father  on  Ireland's  ground — 
and  now  you'll  be  true  to  the  pledge,  and  it's 
happy  we'll  be  and  prosperous — for  the  masther 
told  me  this  blessed  morning,  that  if  he  could  de- 
pend on  you  for  soberness,  you'd  earn  your 
twenty-five  shillings  a  week,  and  have  the  credit 
to  be  a  Monday  man;  and  ye  will,  James — ye 
will — for  my  sake — and  for  the  sake  of  the  chil- 
dren at  home." 

"  Ay,"  he  interrupted,  "  and  for  the  sake  of 
the  broken-hearted  mother  that  bore  me, — and 
for  the  sake  of  little  Mary  that  I  crippled,  in 
the  drink.  Oh,  when  the  sweet  look  of  that 
baby  is  on  me — her  sweet,  patient  look — I  think 
the  gates  of  heaven  can  never  open  for  such  a 
sinner ! " 

While  he  made  this  confession,  his  arms  hung 
powerless  by  his  sides ;  and  his  pallid  face  length- 
ened into  an  expression  of  helpless,  hopeless,  ir- 
reclaimable misery.  The  wife  turned  away  and 
burst  into  tears.  Several  evinced  the  quick 
sympathies  of  Irish  natures,  for  they  shuddered, 
and  murmured,  "  The  Lord  be  betwixt  us  and 
harm,  and  look  down  upon  them  both ! "  The 
woman  was  the  first  to  recover  consciousness; 
impelled  by  a  sudden  burst  of  feeling,  she  threw 
her  bruised  arms  round  her  husband's  neck,  re- 
calling him  to  himself  by  all  the  tender  phrases 
of  Irish  affection.  We  can  never  forget  the 
agonized  earnestness  with  which  the  unhappy 
man  took  the  pledge;  the  beautiful  picture  of 
his  gentle  and  endearing  wife  as  she  stood  beside 
him ;  or  the  solemn  response  that  followed  from  a 


72  IRELAND 

score  of  voices,  "  Oh,  then,  God  strengthen  ye 
to  keep  it! " 

No  one  who  sees  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mathew  will 
hesitate  to  believe  that  he  has  been  stimulated  by 
pure  benevolence  to  the  work  he  has  undertaken. 
The  expression  of  his  countenance  is  peculiarly 
mild  and  gracious:  his  manner  is  persuasive, 
gentle,  simple  and  easy,  and  humble  without  a 
shadow  of  affectation,  and  his  voice  is  low  and 
musical, — "  such  as  moves  men."  A  man  more 
naturally  fitted  to  obtain  influence  over  a  people 
easily  led  and  proverbially  swayed  by  the  affec- 
tions, we  have  never  encountered.  No  man  has 
borne  his  honours  more  meekly ;  encountered  op- 
position with  greater  gentleness  and  forbearance ; 
or  disarmed  hostility  by  weapons  better  suited  to 
a  Christian.  His  age  is  somewhat  above  fifty, 
but  he  looks  younger:  his  frame  is  strong,  evi- 
dently calculated  to  endure  great  fatigue,  and 
his  aspect  is  that  of  established  health — a  service- 
able illustration  of  the  practical  value  of  his  sys- 
tem. He  is  somewhat  above  the  middle  size ;  his 
features  are  handsome  as  well  as  expressive. 
Our  brief  interview  with  him  confirmed  the  fa- 
vourable impression  of  his  character  we  had 
obtained  from  a  knowledge  of  the  benefits  derived 
from  his  labours;  and  we  left  him  with  fervent 
thanks  to  God  that  a  man  so  qualified  to  sway  a 
multitude,  had  so  wisely,  so  nobly,  and  so  vir- 
tuously applied  his  power  and  directed  the  en- 
ergies of  his  marvellously  active  mind — feeling 
how  dangerous  he  might  have  proved  if  they  had 
been  exerted  for  evil,  and  not  for  good. 


CORK  73 

We  have  thus  discharged  our  duty  in  submit- 
ting to  our  readers  the  opinions  we  have  formed 
of  the  Temperance  movement  in  Ireland.  They 
are  the  result  of  careful  inquiry  and  close  ex- 
amination. Our  object  is  to  exert  our  judg- 
ment, unbiassed  by  prejudice,  so  as  to  discover 
truth  and  report  truly.  We  can  have  no  design 
to  answer  but  that  of  encouraging  those  who  are 
striving  to  benefit  Ireland,  in  the  safest  and  most 
effectual  way;  and  of  obtaining  for  its  people 
that  confidence  to  which  they  are  daily  becoming 
more  and  more  entitled.  We  are  very  far  from 
purposing  to  forward  the  interest  of  a  party; 
and  shall  deeply  lament  if  we  offend  any  other 
party  by  the  earnestness  with  which  we  have  advo- 
cated the  cause.  Alas!  that  the  Evil  Genius  of 
Ireland  has  not  been  stayed  from  entering  even 
this  sacred  ground!  We  have  witnessed  the 
prodigious  effects  of  temperance  in  improving  the 
character  and  bettering  the  condition  of  the  Irish 
peasantry;  but  we  see,  in  the  prospect,  advan- 
tages to  which  those  already  obtained  are  but  as 
dust  in  the  balance,  and  which  those  who  have 
recently  visited  Ireland,  to  examine  it  unprej- 
udiced, will  not  consider  as  over-sanguine  in  an- 
ticipating : — bigotry  losing  its  hold ;  the  undue  or 
baneful  influence  of  one  mind  over  another  mind 
ceasing;  habits  of  thrift  and  forethought  becom- 
ing constitutional;  industry  receiving  its  full 
recompense;  cultivation  passing  over  the  bogs 
and  up  the  mountains;  the  law  recognised  as  a 
guardian  and  protector;  the  rights  of  property 
fully  understood  and  acknowledged;  the  rich 


74  IRELAND 

trusting  the  poor,  and  the  poor  confiding  in  the 
rich;  absenteeism  no  longer  a  weighty  evil;  and 
capital  circulating  freely  and  securely,  so  as  to 
render  the  great  natural  resources  of  Ireland 
available  to  the  commercial,  the  agricultural,  and 
the  manufacturing  interests  of  the  United  King- 
dom. 

i      * 

The  immediate  outlets  of  Cork  possess  consid- 
erable interest,  and  their  natural  beauties  are, 
perhaps,  not  exceeded  by  those  of  any  city  of  the 
kingdom.  The  river  Lee,  above  and  below  the 
bridges,  the  alternate  hill  and  dale,  the  high  state 
of  cultivation,  the  number  of  fine  seats  and  pretty 
cottages,  and  an  abundance  of  trees  and  ever- 
greens— are  objects  that  meet  the  eye  in  every 
direction  around  Cork,  and  seem  to  justify  the 
appellation  bestowed  upon  it  by  the  natives,  and 
assented  to  by  all  visitors,  of — "  The  beautiful 
City!"  On  one  side  is  Sunday's  Well,  a  steep 
ascent  from  the  height  of  which  there  is  a  mag- 
nificent view  of  the  river  and  of  the  landscape  for 
many  miles  around  it.  "  Sunday's  Well "  de- 
rives its  name  from  one  of  those  sacred  fountains 
— which  abound  in  every  part  of  Ireland,  and 
which  we  shall  have  to  describe  hereafter — where 
devotees  assemble,  at  particular  periods,  under 
the  belief  that  the  water  is  blessed  and  cures  all 
disorders.  On  the  same  side  of  the  river  are  the 
Upper  and  Lower  Glanmire  Roads — not  long 
since  solitary  walks,  but  now  a  busy  and  populous 
district.  The  "  Lower  "  conducts  to  the  wharfs 
and  timber-yards,  and  skirts  the  river;  the  "  Up- 


CORK  75 

per,"  to  the  barracks,  an  extensive  and  commo- 
dious structure;  and  both  roads  terminate  in 
scenery  of  great  beauty.  But  the  most  attrac- 
tive of  the  outlets  from  Cork  is  that  which  leads 
to  Passage,  and  which  it  will  be  our  business  to 
describe  when  we  conduct  the  reader  to  Cove; 
we  give  precedence,  however,  to  one  in  reference 
to  which  the  first  inquiry  of  the  English  traveller 
is  usually  directed. 

Few  places  in  Ireland  are  more  familiar  to 
English  ears  than  Blarney;  the  notoriety  is  at- 
tributable, first,  to  the  marvellous  qualities  of  its 
famous  "  stone,"  and  next,  to  the  extensive  popu- 
larity of  the  song, — 

"  The  groves  of  Blarney,  they  are  so  charming." 

When  or  how  the  stone  obtained  its  singular  rep- 
utation, it  is  difficult  to  determine ;  the  exact  po- 
sition among  the  ruins  of  the  castle  is  also  a  mat- 
ter of  doubt;  the  peasant-guides  humour  the 
visitor  according  to  his  capacity  for  climbing,  and 
direct,  either  to  the  summit  or  the  base,  the  at- 
tention of  him  who  desires  to  "  greet  it  with  a 
holy  kiss."  He  who  has  been  dipped  in  the  Shan- 
non is  presumed  to  have  obtained,  in  abundance, 
the  gift  of  that  "  civil  courage  "  which  makes  an 
Irishman  at  ease  and  unconstrained  in  all  places 
and  under  all  circumstances;  and  he  who  has 
kissed  the  Blarney  stone  is  assumed  to  be  endowed 
with  a  fluent  and  persuasive  tongue,  although  it 
may  be  associated  with  insincerity;  the  term 
"  Blarney  "  being  generally  used  to  characterize 
words  that  are  meant  neither  to  be  "  honest  nor 


76  IRELAND 

true."  It  is  conjectured  that  the  comparatively 
modern  application  of  the  term  "  Blarney  "  first 
had  existence  when  the  possessor,  Lord  Clancarty, 
was  a  prisoner  to  Sir  George  Carew,  by  whom  he 
was  subjected  to  several  examinations  touching 
his  loyalty,  which  he  was  required  to  prove  by  sur- 
rendering his  strong  castle  to  the  soldiers  of  the 
Queen;  this  act  he  always  endeavoured  to  evade 
by  some  plausible  excuse,  but  as  invariably  pro- 
fessing his  willingness  to  do  so.  The  particulars 
are  fully  detailed  in  the  "  Pacata  Hibernia." 

It  is  certain  that  to  no  particular  stone  of  the 
ancient  structure  is  the  marvellous  quality  exclu- 
sively attributed ;  but  in  order  to  make  it  as  diffi- 
cult as  possible  to  attain  the  enviable  gift,  it  had 
long  been  the  custom  to  point  out  a  stone,  a  few 
feet  below  the  battlements,  which  the  very  daring 
only  would  run  the  hazard  of  touching  with  their 
lips.  The  attempt  to  do  so  was,  indeed,  so  dan- 
gerous, that  a  few  years  ago  Mr.  Jeffreys  had  it 
removed  from  the  wall  and  placed  on  the  highest 
point  of  the  building;  where  the  visitor  may  now 
greet  it  with  little  risk.  It  is  about  two  feet 
square,  and  contains  the  date  1703,  with  a  portion 
of  the  arms  of  the  Jeffreys  family,  but  the  date, 
at  once,  negatives  its  claim  to  be  considered  the 
true  marvel  of  Blarney.15  A  few  days  before 
our  visit  a  madman  made  his  way  to  the  top  of 
the  castle,  and  after  dancing  round  it  for  some 
hours,  his  escape  from  death  being  almost  mirac- 
ulous, he  flung  this  stone  from  the  tower;  it  was 
broken  in  the  fall,  and  now,  as  the  guide  stated  to 


CORK  77 

us,  the  "  three  halves  "  must  receive  three  distinct 
kisses  to  be  in  any  degree  effective. 

The  age  of  the  song,  however,  has  been  satis- 
factorily ascertained;  it  was  written  in  the  year 
1798  or  1799,  by  Richard  Alfred  Millikin,  an 
attorney  of  Cork.  The  author  little  anticipated 
the  celebrity  his  lines  were  destined  to  acquire; 
they  were  composed  to  ridicule  the  nonsense  verses 
of  the  village  poets,  who,  with  a  limited  knowl- 
edge of  the  English  language,  and  a  smattering 
of  classical  names,  were  in  the  .habit  of  indulging 
their  still  more  ignorant  auditors,  by  stringing 
together  sounds  that  had  no  sense,  but  conveyed 
a  notion  of  the  prodigious  learning  of  the  singer. 

The  ancient  melody,  to  which  Millikin  wrote 
"  The  Groves  of  Blarney,"  differs  from  the  air  to 
which  Moore's  song  of  "  The  Last  Rose  of  Sum- 
mer," with  which  so  many  are  familiar,  is  adapted. 

Millikin's  song  has  been  injurious  to  Ireland; 
it  has  raised  many  a  laugh  at  Ireland's  expense, 
and  contributed  largely  to  aid  the  artist  and  the 
actor,  of  gone-by  times,  in  exhibiting  the  Irish- 
man as  little  better  than  a  buffoon — very  amus- 
ing, no  doubt,  but  exciting  any  feeling  rather  than 
that  of  respect. 

It  is  impossible  to  contemplate  the  romantic 
ruins  of  Blarney  Castle  without  a  feeling  more 
akin  to  melancholy  than  to  pleasure;  they  bear, 
so  perfectly,  the  aspect  of  strength  utterly  sub- 
dued, and  remind  one,  so  forcibly,  that  the 
"  glory  "  of  Ireland  belongs  to  days  departed. 
The  castle  stands — 


78  IRELAND 

"  as  stands  a  lofty  mind, 
Worn,  but  unstooping  to  the  baser  crowd, 
All  tenantless,  save  to  the  crannying  wind." 

The  stronghold  of  Blarney  was  erected  about 
the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century  by  Cormac 
Mac  Carthy,  surnamed  "  Laider,"  or  the  Strong; 
whose  ancestors  had  been  chieftains  in  Munster 
from  a  period  long  antecedent  to  the  English  in- 
vasion, and  whose  descendants,  as  Lords  of  Mus- 
kerry  and  Clancarty,  retained  no  inconsiderable 
portion  of  their  power  and  estates  until  the  year 
1689,  when  their  immense  possessions  were  con- 
fiscated, and  the  last  earl  became  an  exile,  like  the 
monarch  whose  cause  he  had  supported.  The 
castle,  village,  mills,  fairs,  and  customs  of  Blar- 
ney, with  the  land  and  park  thereunto  belonging, 
containing  1,400  acres,  were  "  set  up  by  cant  "  in 
the  year  1702,  purchased  by  Sir  Richard  Pyne, 
Lord  Chief  Justice,  for  £3,000,  and  by  him  dis- 
posed of,  the  following  year,  to  General  Sir  James 
Jeffreys,  in  whose  family  the  property  continues. 
Although  the  walls  of  this  castle  are  still  strong, 
many  of  the  outworks  have  long  since  been  lev- 
elled with  the  earth;  the  plough  has  passed  over 
their  foundations,  and  "  the  stones  of  which  they 
were  built  have  been  used  in  repairing  the  turn- 
pike-roads." 

The  fate  of  the  once  formidable  clan  of  the 
Mac  Carthy  is  similar  to  that  of  nearly  all  the 
ancient  families  of  Ireland:  the  descendants,  in 
the  direct  line,  may  be  often  found  working,  as 
day-labourers,  around  the  ruins  of  castles  where 
their  forefathers  had  ruled;  and  as,  in  many  in- 


CORK  79 

stances,  a  period  of  little  more  than  a  century  and 
a  half  has  passed  between  their  grandeur  and 
their  degradation,  it  can  excite  no  marvel  if,  at 
times,  they  indulge  the  idea,  that  what  was  swept 
from  them  by  the  strong  tide  of  conquest,  the 
eddy  of  events  may  bring  back  to  them  again. 
We  have  ourselves  seen  the  legitimate  heir  of  one 
of  the  ancient  rulers  and  owners  of  West  Car- 
bery  pause,  as  he  delved  the  soil,  lean  on  his 
spade,  and  point  to  the  mountains  and  the  valleys, 
stretching  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  and  speak, 
as  if  they  were  still  his  own,  of  the  wide  district 
of  which  his  great-grandsire  was  the  chief.  The 
touching  story  which  Mr.  Crofton  Croker  tells  of 
the  representative  of  the  Mac  Carthy  (Mus- 
kerry)  may  find  its  parallel  in  nearly  every  bar- 
ony of  Ireland.  The  existing  proprietor  of  a 
portion  of  these  forfeited  estates  observed,  one 
evening,  in  his  demesne,  an  aged  man  stretched 
at  the  foot  of  an  old  tree,  "  sobbing  as  though 
his  heart  would  break."  On  expressing  sympa- 
thy, and  inquiring  the  cause  of  such  excessive 
sorrow,  he  received  this  answer — "  I  am  a  Mac 
Carthy,  once  the  possessor  of  that  castle  and  of 
these  broad  lands ;  this  tree  I  planted,  and  I  have 
returned  to  water  it  with  my  tears.  To-morrow 
I  sail  for  Spain,  where  I  have  been  an  exile  and 
an  outlaw  since  the  revolution.  To-night,  for  the 
last  time,  I  bid  farewell  to  the  place  of  my  birth 
and  the  home  of  my  ancestors." 

"  Forfeited  estates  "  in  Ireland  are  to  be  en- 
countered as  frequently  as  old  Irish  names;  in 
some  instances  they  were  transferred  wholesale 


80  IRELAND 

to  the  followers  of  the  triumphant  Cromwell  or 
the  victorious  William;  in  other  cases  they 
were  partitioned  and  scattered  among  them. 
The  county  histories  are  full  of  such  expres- 
sive sentences  as  this:  "he  joined  the  Irish 
and  forfeited  this  estate."  The  knights  of 
Queen  Elizabeth :  "  successful  soldiers  of  the 
Commonwealth ; "  or  the  partisans,  English 
and  Dutch,  of  William  III.,  divided  the  prop- 
erties of  the  ancient  or  "  mere  Irish;  "  and,  per- 
haps, in  the  whole  country,  there  are  scarcely  a 
dozen  of  the  descendants  of  families,  antecedent 
to  the  Anglo-Norman  invasion,  who  hold  an  acre 
of  the  land  that  once  belonged  to  their  ancestors. 
We  shall  be  often  called  upon  to  illustrate  Irish 
history  and  Irish  character,  by  tracing  the  circum- 
stances which  led  to  such  changes.  Time  has,  no 
doubt,  contributed  largely  to  reconcile  the  suffer- 
ers to  their  fate;  the  memory  of  it  is,  every  day, 
becoming  more  and  more  faint;  but  enough  still 
exists  to  be  wrought  upon,  for  evil,  by  those  who 
would  misdirect  the  energies  of  the  Irish  peas- 
antry.16 

The  last  Lord  Clancarty  raised  a  troop  for 
James  II.,  and  "  with  them  committed  many 
ravages."  A  poor  butcher  of  Mallow,  who  had 
refused  his  men  a  horse,  without  payment,  was  se- 
verely ill-treated  by  them ;  and  making  complaint 
to  the  judges  of  assize,  obtained  satisfaction. 
As  soon  as  the  judges  were  gone,  however,  the 
earl  marched  with  a  party  of  his  troopers  to  the 
butcher's  house,  and  telling  him  they  were  come 
to  pay  him  for  his  horse — as  ordered — tossed  the 


CORK  81 

unfortunate  man  in  a  blanket  and  bruised  him 
till  he  died.  His  family  were  presented  by  King 
William,  by  way  of  atonement,  with  a  grant  of 
part  of  the  earl's  estate;  which  the  descendants 
of  the  butcher  continue  to  enjoy,  we  believe,  to 
the  present  day ;  the  property  being  styled  "  the 
lands  of  the  Butcher  of  Conscience."  After  the 
confiscation  of  Lord  Clancarty's  vast  estates,  he 
was  exiled,  but  a  pension  of  £300  a  year  was 
granted  to  him  during  his  life.  He  subsequently 
purchased  a  little  island  at  the  mouth  of  the  Elbe, 
where  "  he  made  considerable  profits  by  ship- 
wrecks," but  without  any  stain  upon  his  charac- 
ter, as  he  gave  up  all  waifs  and  strays  to  their 
owners,  if  demanded  within  a  year,  and  continued 
to  render  the  distressed  all  the  assistance  in  his 
power — saving  the  lives  of  many. 

His  son  Robert,  "  commonly  called  Lord  Mus- 
kerry,"  who  was  a  captain  in  the  British  navy, 
having  laid  claim  to  his  patrimony,  it  was  found 
to  be  "  divided  into  so  many  hands  that  the  suit 
seemed  of  too  dangerous  a  nature  to  be  suffered 
to  go  on."  Parliament  interfered,  and  put  a 
stop  to  the  proceedings.  There  is  a  family  tradi- 
tion, that  when  Lord  Clancarty  went  into  exile, 
pending  measures  to  regain  his  estates,  which  he 
was  subsequently  compelled  to  abandon  for  lack 
of  means,  Sarah  Duchess  of  Marlborough  lent 
him  a  Bible,  saying  he  would  therein  find  matter 
to  console  him  for  all  his  troubles.  The  book, 
however,  remained  unopened  until  his  return  to 
England ;  when  the  duchess  reclaimed  the  volume, 

and  showed  her  astonished  and  mortified  relative 
v— 6 


82  IRELAND 

that  she  had  placed  among  the  leaves  notes  more 
than  sufficient  to  have  met  the  expenses  necessary 
for  carrying  on  the  proceedings  for  the  recovery 
of  his  property,  then  placed  far  beyond  his  reach. 

The  small  village  of  Blarney  is  about  four  miles 
north- west  of  Cork;  a  few  years  ago  it  was  re- 
markably clean,  neat,  and  thriving ;  its  prosperity 
having  resulted  from  the  establishment  of  sev- 
eral linen  and  cotton  factories,  the  whole  of  which 
have  been  swept  away,  and  the  hamlet  is  now,  like 
the  castle,  an  assemblage  of  ruins.  In  the  vicin- 
ity, however,  there  is  yet  a  woollen-manufactory 
and  a  paper-mill,  both  in  full  work.  The  scenery 
in  the  neighbourhood  is  agreeable,  but  the 
grounds  that  immediately  surround  the  castle 
are  of  exceeding  beauty.  Nature  has  done  much 
more  for  them  than  art;  although  there  is  evi- 
dence that  the  hand  of  taste  had  busied  itself  in 
the  duty  of  improvement.  '  The  sweet  Rock- 
close  "  is  a  small  dell,  in  which  evergreens  grow 
luxuriantly,  completely  shaded  with  magnifi- 
cent trees.  At  its  termination,  are  the  "  Witches' 
Stairs;  "  a  series  of  rugged  stone  steps  which 
lead  down  through  a  passage  in  the  rock  to  a  de- 
licious spot  of  green  sward  forming  the  bank  of 
a  clear  rivulet — and  where  some  singular  masses 
appear  to  have  been  "  the  work  of  Druid  hands 
of  old." 

We  visited  "  The  sweet  Rock-close  " — it  well 
deserves  the  epithet — during  a  sunny  day  in 
June;  and  never  can  we  forget  the  fragrant 
shade  afforded  by  the  luxuriant  evergreens  which 
seem  rooted  in  the  limestone  rock ;  the  little  river 


CORK  83 

Comane  is  guarded  by  a  natural  terrace,  fringed 
by  noble  trees ;  several  of  the  spaces  between  are 
grottos — natural  also;  some  with  seats,  where 
many  a  love  tale  has  been  told,  and  will  be,  doubt- 
less, as  long  as  Cork  lads  and  lasses  indulge  in 
pic-nic  fetes,  while  the  blackbird  whistles,  and 
the  wood-pigeon  cooes  in  the  twisted  foliage  above 
their  heads :  it  is  indeed  a  spot  of  exceeding  wild- 
ness  and  singular  beauty;  at  some  particular 
points  you  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  castle,  the 
river,  and  the  mysterious  entrance  to  the 
"  Witches'  Stairs."  Still,  notwithstanding  the 
variety  of  these  objects,  and  a  cave,  moreover, 
where  some  beautiful  princess  of  old  went 
through — like  the  lady  in  Comus — a  long  en- 
chantment, the  character  of  the  Rock-close  is  one 
of  deep  shadow;  occasionally,  a  sunbeam  strug- 
gles through  the  gloom,  and  points  out  a  bed  of 
the  richest  moss,  or  a  "  grey  stone  "  winged  with 
waving  fern ;  and  it  is  a  place  wherein  to  meditate 
upon  the  mystery  that  such  a  scene  should  ever 
have  been  abandoned  by  its  possessor,  who  now 
takes  little  more  interest  in  his  beautiful  domain 
than  to  crowd  its  rich  meadows  with  as  fine  cattle 
as  we  ever  remember  to  have  seen  in  any  country. 
We  wandered  from  the  shades  of  the  Rock-close 
across  the  green  and  richly-wooded  pastures 
which  lead  to  the  lake — a  fine  expanse  of  water 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  castle.  The 
scenery  here  is  rather  English  than  Irish,  but 
every  step  is  hallowed  by  a  legend :  it  is  implicitly 
believed  that  the  last  Earl  of  Clancarty  who  in- 
habited the  castle,  committed  the  keeping  of  his 


84  IRELAND 

plate  to  the  deepest  waters,  and  that  it  will  never 
be  recovered  until  a  Mac  Carthy  be  again  lord 
of  Blarney.  Enchanted  cows  on  midsummer 
nights  dispute  the  pasture  with  those  of  the  pres- 
ent possessor,  and  many  an  earthly  bull  has  been 
worsted  in  the  contest.  As  to  fairies — their  rings 
are  upon  the  grass  from  early  summer  to  the  last 
week  in  harvest. 

We  confess  our  attention  was  somewhat  with- 
drawn from  the  varied  and  interesting  conversa- 
tion of  our  urbane  and  considerate  companion, 
by  the  multitudes  of  lilies  that  floated  on  the  wa- 
ters of  the  lake,  rendering  it  near  the  shore  a  mass 
of  living  gold.  We  never  saw  the  flower  in  such 
abundance  or  perfection ;  one,  which  we  gathered, 
contained  within  its  calyx  a  small  green  lizard, 
that  came  creeping  forth,  its  fixed  and  jet-like 
eyes  staring  us  out  of  countenance,  until  we  trans- 
ferred it  to  another  home,  which  it  quietly  en- 
tered. A  most  delightful  day  did  we  spend 
amongst  those  ruins  of  art  and  beauties  of  nature. 
We  sat  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  old  ward-tower 
to  partake  of  some  refreshment,  and  the  children 
of  a  dairy  farm,  close  to  the  castle,  brought  us  a 
plate,  piled  with  potatoes  and  enveloped  in  a 
warm  white  cloth. 

Those  who  visit  Blarney  castle  would  be  re- 
paid for  their  trouble,  by  extending  their  drive 
through  a  sequestered  glen,  in  which  the  Awmar- 
tin  descends  into  the  valley;  the  road  wanders 
through  this  beautiful  pass  almost  as  wildly  as 
the  river,  and  at  its  extremity  the  Rev.  Matthew 
Horgan,  with  true  antiquarian  gusto,  is  erecting 


CORK  85 

a  round-tower  close  to  his  chapel,  with  a  view  to 
be  even  with  his  ancestors,  and — puzzle  posterity. 
The  neighbourhood  has  many  circular  paths,  and 
some  square  entrenchments,  with  the  usual  sub- 
terranean cells. 

To  the  beauty  and  numerous  attractions  of  the 
Cork  river,  we  have  already  called  the  attention 
of  our  readers.  From  the  quay — on  which  the 
St.  George  Company  have  their  office  1T — the 
whole  distance  to  the  harbour's  mouth,  the  scene 
is  one  of  continual  variety  and  interest ;  the  shores 
on  both  sides  are  richly  wooded,  and  crowded  with 
fine  or  pretty  villas.  Proceeding  from  Cork,  the 
object  that  first  strikes  the  tourist,  is  the  castle 
of  Black  Rock — a  modern  structure,  but  which, 
from  its  position,  standing  on  the  extremity  of  a 
small  peninsula,  commands  especial  notice. 
Some  assert  that  William  Penn  embarked  from 
this  spot  for  the  New  World,  while  others  point 
out,  as  the  place,  the  old  mansion  of  Dundanion 
(now  a  ruin  in  the  grounds  of  Sir  Thomas 
Deane) .  Passing  through  Lough  Mahon — part 
of  the  river,  but  because  of  its  peculiar  character 
styled  a  "  lough  "  or  lake — the  village  of  Pas- 
sage, distant  five  miles  from  Cork,  is  reached. 
Here  all  large  vessels  discharge  their  cargoes,  the 
channel  not  being  of  sufficient  depth  to  allow  of 
their  approach  nearer  to  the  city.  An  excellent 
quay  has  recently  been  built  to  facilitate  the  em- 
barkation and  disembarkation  of  passengers.  In 
excavating  for  its  foundation,  an  iron  cannon,  or 
part  of  one,  was  discovered,  which  certainly  be- 
longs to  an  early  period  in  the  history  of  English 


86  IRELAND 

artillery — if  it  be  of  English  manufacture.  ( See 
Plate  No.  2.)  If  of  Irish  make,  it  is  far  more 
difficult  to  conjecture  the  age,  for  we  know  that 
leathern  cannon  hooped  with  iron  were  used  by 
the  Anglo-Irish,  so  late  as  the  reign  of  Charles  I. ; 
and  we  have  seen  a  whimsical  record  of  one  of 
these  engines,  which,  instead  of  shooting  its  ball 
forward,  exploded  at  the  breech,  leaving  the  ball 
unmoved.  In  our  opinion,  the  piece  of  ord- 
nance found  is  only  the  chamber  of  the  gun,  to 
which  an  iron  tube  was  attached  for  the  passage 
of  the  ball;  and  judging  by  comparison  with  one 
in  the  curious  and  interesting  collection  of  can- 
non at  Quex  Park,  the  seat  of  Mr.  Powell,  in  the 
Isle  of  Thanet,  which  had  been  dug  up  at  Til- 
bury Fort,  the  one  discovered  at  Passage  may  be 
referred  to  the  time  of  Henry  VII. ;  and  the  war- 
like demonstrations  then  made  by  the  citizens  of 
Cork  in  favour  of  Perkin  Warbeck,  may  be 
brought  forward  to  support  the  conjecture,  and 
account  for  the  locality  in  which  it  was  found. 

About  a  mile  farther  on  is  the  village  of  Monks- 
town;  it  was  formerly  confined  in  the  gorge  of  a 
deep  and  richly-wooded  glen,  but  has  gradually 
extended  along  the  shore,  where  a  row  of  excel- 
lent houses  sprung  up;  and  a  handsome  church, 
an  hotel  with  baths,  and  some  pretty  villas,  have 
been  more  recently  built.  The  castle  of  Monks- 
town,  though  now  a  complete  ruin,  was  in  re- 
pair, and  used  as  a  barrack,  during  the  last  war. 
It  was  built  in  the  year  1636,  and,  according  to 
popular  tradition,  at  the  cost  of  a  groat.  To  ex- 
plain the  enigma,  the  following  story  is  told: — 


CORK  87 

Anastatia  Goold,  who  had  become  the  wife  of 
John  Archdeken,  determined  while  her  husband 
was  abroad,  serving  in  the  army  of  Philip  of 
Spain,  to  give  him  evidence  of  her  thrift  on  his 
return,  by  surprising  him  with  a  noble  residence 
which  he  might  call  his  own.  Her  plan  was,  to 
supply  the  workmen  with  provisions  and  other 
articles  they  required,  for  which  she  charged  the 
ordinary  price;  but  as  she  had  made  her  pur- 
chases wholesale,  upon  balancing  her  accounts  it 
appeared  that  the  retail  profit  had  paid  all  the 
expenses  of  the  structure,  except  four-pence! 
This  model  of  domestic  economy  reposes  with  her 
husband  in  the  neighbouring  burial-ground  of 
the  ruined  church  of  Temple-en-Bryn.  He  died 
in  1660,  and  a  long  inscription  in  Latin  upon  the 
family  vault  records  his  piety,  hospitality,  and 
other  good  qualities.18 

Between  the  two  villages,  Passage  and  Monks- 
town,  a  delightful  road  along  the  shore  has  been 
lately  formed,  a  little  above  high-water  mark,  by 
cutting  away  the  rock  which  descended  abruptly 
to  the  river.  The  depth  of  water  here  is  very 
great;  and  it  is  pointed  out  to  the  stranger's  no- 
tice as  a  place  where  several  ships  have  foun- 
dered, particularly  one  commanded  by  Captain 
Cole,  in  1758.  The  formation  of  this  road  has, 
however,  much  injured  a  singular  freak  of  nature 
called  the  "  Giant's  Stairs,"  some  of  which  it  has 
entirely  displaced.  Fifteen  or  sixteen  huge 
knobs  of  rock,  each  many  tons  in  weight,  rose 
from  the  water's  edge  one  above  the  other  up  the 
face  of  a  very  steep  rocky  ascent,  with  nearly  the 


88  IRELAND 

regularity  of  a  flight  of  steps ;  and  it  required  no 
effort  of  fancy  to  perceive  the  resemblance,  es- 
pecially when  this  extraordinary  cliff  chanced  to 
be  viewed  in  profile.  Sufficient  still  remains  to 
satisfy  a  stranger's  curiosity,  notwithstanding  the 
dismemberment;  but  they  can  be  no  longer  ap- 
pealed to  by  the  credulous  boatmen  as  the  un- 
doubted stairs  which  the  Giant  O'Mahony  made 
for  himself,  and  used  every  night  at  twelve 
o'clock  when  he  descended  to  his  bathing-place. 

Before  reaching  Cove,  the  steamer  passes 
Haulbowlin  Island;  and  between  the  town  of 
Cove  and  the  harbour's  mouth  are  Rocky  and 
Spike  Islands — to  which  we  have  already  made 
reference.  Nearer  the  harbour's  mouth,  on  the 
west  side,  is  a  creek  called  Crosshaven,  remark- 
able from  the  tradition  that  it  once  sheltered  the 
gallant  admiral,  Sir  Francis  Drake,  when  pur- 
sued into  the  harbour  by  a  Spanish  squadron. 
The  spot  where  he  anchored  is  still  called 
"  Drake's  Pool."  The  Spaniards,  after  remain- 
ing some  days  in  the  "  bay  of  Cork  "  (as  its  har- 
bour was  then,  and  for  some  years  subsequently, 
called),  sending  boats  up  the  Cork  river  in  vain 
pursuit,  and  exploring  in  other  directions,  stood 
out  to  sea  again,  completely  unable  to  account 
for  the  mysterious  disappearance  of  the  vessels 
they  had  chased  so  closely  and  so  keenly,  and 
which  they,  after  due  consideration  of  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, gravely  concluded,  could  only  have 
been  snatched  from  their  grasp  and  have  disap- 
peared in  so  astonishing  a  manner  by  the  power 
of  magic. 


CORK  89 

To  Spike  Island  considerable  national  im- 
portance was,  and  some  literary  interest  is,  at- 
tached, from  the  circumstance  that  the  engineer 
officer  who  superintended  the  formation  of  the 
unfinished  fortification  upon  it,  called  Fort 
Westmoreland,  which  was  commenced  in  1791, 
was  General — then  Colonel — Vallancey.  Here 
it  was  that  the  learned  and  philosophic  soldier 
commenced  the  study  of  the  Irish  language,  in- 
structed by  one  of  the  stone-masons  under  his 
orders;  and  it  is  certainly  remarkable  that  any 
Englishman  should  have  so  completely  identi- 
fied his  name  with  Irish  literary  and  antiquarian 
research.  However  fanciful  and  visionary  the 
theories  of  Vallancey  may  be  considered,  no  one 
can  deny  that  his  inquiries  and  learning  have 
brought  to  light  many — very  many,  verbal  and 
other  coincidences  too  extraordinary  not  to  af- 
ford subjects  for  deep  reflection  to  an  inquiring 
mind. 

The  town  of  Cove,  as  we  have  stated,  faces  the 
entrance  to  Cork  harbour,  from  which,  however, 
it  is  distant  about  five  miles.  It  is  built  on  the 
side  of  a  steep  hill,  and  rises  from  the  water's 
edge,  terrace  above  terrace;  the  more  elevated 
parts  commanding  a  magnificent  bird's-eye  view 
of  the  extensive  anchorage.  The  town  has  there- 
fore natural  advantages  of  a  rare  order,  so  man- 
ifest are  they,  indeed,  as  almost  to  justify  the 
prophecy  of  an  English  traveller,  that  in  time  it 
would  supplant  the  prosperous  city;  "  for  here," 
he  adds,  "  the  merchant  may  discharge  his  cargo 
in  the  sight  of  his  own  storehouses."  Cove  has 


90  IRELAND 

a  southern  aspect,  and  the  climate  is  consequently 
mild  during  all  seasons;  from  the  nature  of  the 
site  on  which  it  stands,  Cove  is  almost  always 
clean — a  fall  of  rain  carrying  its  impurities  into 
the  Atlantic.  On  all  sides  the  shore  is  covered 
with  villas — the  trees,  usually  stunted  on  the 
coast,  grow  gracefully  and  majestically:  the  is- 
lands, and  fortified  headlands,  are  so  many  im- 
posing objects  within  view;  and  the  gay  yachts, 
which  a  tourist  described  a  century  ago  as  "  little 
vessels,  that  for  painting  and  gilding  exceed  those 
of  the  king  at  Greenwich,"  give  animation  and 
variety  to  the  exciting  scene. 

"  The  Yacht  Club  "  of  Cork  is  said  to  be  the 
oldest  association  of  the  kind  in  the  United  King- 
dom, and  it  probably  is  so.  With  its  "  rules  and 
orders,"  printed  in  1765,  under  the  name  of  those 
of  the  "  Cork  Water  Club,"  is  given  a  list  of  the 
old  members  of  1720;  and  reference  is  made  to 
its  "  ancient  rules  and  constitution;  "  one  of  the 
early  regulations  provided  that  no  long-tailed 
wigs,  large  sleeves  or  ruffles,  should  be  worn  by 
any  member.  In  1830  it  received  the  prefix  of 
"  Royal,"  and  in  1831  the  French  government 
conceded  to  it  the  privilege  of  free  access  to  all 
the  ports  of  France.  The  club  has  of  late  years 
successfully  laboured  to  improve  the  construc- 
tion, appointments,  and  management  of  vessels 
of  all  descriptions,  and  the  commonest  craft  of 
the  harbour  may  now  vie  with  those  belonging  to 
any  English  port ;  the  skill  and  hardihood  of  the 
Cove  boatmen  and  mariners  are  proverbial;  and 
if  the  kingdom  shall  again  require  sailors  to  main- 


CORK  91 

tain  the  supremacy  of  the  British  flag,  and  give 
emphasis  to  the  almost  forgotten  line  "  Britannia 
rules  the  waves,"  the  Cove  of  Cork  will  supply, 
at  least,  its  quota. 

Previous  to  the  war  between  England  and  her 
American  colonies,  Cove  consisted  of  little  more 
than  the  mud  cabins  of  a  few  fishermen.  Dr. 
Smith,  whose  county  history  was  published  in 
1750,  describes  it  as  "  a  village  built  under  a 
steep  hill,  inhabited  by  seamen  and  revenue  offi- 
cers." And  in  1752  John  Wesley  records  that 
"  there  was  nothing  to  be  bought  there — nei- 
ther flesh,  nor  fish,  nor  butter,  nor  cheese," 
and  adds  that  he  was  obliged  to  be  "  well  con- 
tented "  with  some  eggs  and  bread.  The  pres- 
ent population  of  Cove  exceeds  7,000,  and  its 
character  is  that  of  a  thriving  and  improving 
town. 

During  the  early  part  of  the  last  century, 
numerous  are  the  anecdotes  related  of  the  daring 
exploits  of  hostile  privateers  and  pirates,  per- 
formed actually  within  Cork  harbour,  and  in  full 
view  of  the  town  of  Cove — if  town  it  could  then 
be  called — and  its  population.  In  one  instance 
the  Custom-house  officers  were  made  prisoners 
and  carried  off  "  to  larn  them  to  spake  French," 
as  was  jocularly  remarked.  In  another,  after 
the  enemy  had  taken  on  board  supplies  of  water 
and  fresh  provisions,  they  cut  out  such  merchant- 
vessels  as  they  considered  to  be  worth  the  trouble 
of  carrying  off.  Soon  after  this  occurrence  in- 
sulting notices  were  posted  in  the  city  of  Cork 
boasting  of  the  achievement,  and  inviting  the  cit- 


92  IRELAND 

izens  generally,  some  of  them  by  name,  to  an  en- 
tertainment, on  a  particular  day,  which  was  ap- 
pointed, as  an  acknowledgment  of  the  ready  sale 
their  goods  had  met  with ;  and,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  the  entertainment  took  place.  These  and 
similar  outrages,  conceived  in  the  most  wanton 
spirit,  and  executed  in  the  most  reckless  manner, 
were,  almost  without  exception,  the  acts  of  Irish- 
men intimately  acquainted  with  the  localities,  who 
had  entered  into  foreign  services.  Some  of  such 
enterprises  were  executed  under  letters  of 
marque  (of  which  we  have  seen  one)  from  the 
Pretender;  and  many  very  romantic  stories  are 
told  of  the  semi-warlike,  semi-friendly  inter- 
course, carried  on  between  the  residents  upon  the 
southern  coast  of  Ireland  and  "  the  wild  geese," 
as  the  Irish  metaphorically  termed  their  expa- 
triated relatives  and  friends. 

So  late  as  1780,  Cove  had  scarcely  advanced 
beyond  the  dignity  of  a  fishing  hamlet.  Soon 
afterwards,  however,  the  value  of  Cork  harbour 
having  been  appreciated,  its  Cove  gradually  rose 
into  importance;  houses  were  built,  fortifications 
for  defence  constructed,  government  stores  es- 
tablished, and  it  became  the  naval  station  of  an 
Admiral's  flag.  Bustle,  activity,  and  a  thriving 
trade,  followed.  It  was  no  unusual  sight  to  be- 
hold from  "  Spy-hill,"  as  the  highest  point  of 
Cove  was  called,  three  hundred  sail  of  merchant 
vessels  assembled,  waiting  for  convoy;  nor  was 
it  a  rare  occurrence  to  hear  the  booming  of  dis- 
tant cannon  from  some  daring  privateer  that  like 
a  shark  had  watched  the  harbour's  mouth,  until 


CORK  93 

it  was  brought  an  honourable  prize  into  port. 
Cove  was  then  all  gaiety:  the  steady  officers,  the 
light-hearted  and  thoughtless  "  middies,"  and  the 
"  jolly  Jack  tars,"  paraded  up  and  down  at  all 
hours.  The  pennant  floated  in  the  breeze,  redo- 
lent with  dust,  pitch,  whiskey,  and  music;  the 
fiddle  and  bagpipes  resounded  in  a  district 
named,  for  what  reason  we  know  not,  "  the  holy 
ground,"  unless  that  it  was  sacred  to  every  spe- 
cies of  marine  frolic  and  dissipation — a  spot,  by 
the  way,  from  just  above  which  Mr.  Creswick's 
view  is  taken.  Many  are  the  odd  stories  told  in 
illustration  of  the  proverbial  recklessness  of  the 
sailor;  and  if  the  traditions  of  "  the  holy  ground  " 
could  be  collected,  rich  indeed  would  be  the  ex- 
hibition of  mingled  nautical  humour  and  Irish 
wit.  With  "  dove-like  Peace,"  the  glory  of  Cove 
departed.  Notwithstanding  the  arguments  and 
remonstrances  of  its  inhabitants,  Cove  was  re- 
duced from  an  admiral's  command  to  a  mere 
naval  station  for  the  supply  of  water  and  pro- 
visions. Now-a-days,  the  appearance  of  a  ship- 
of-war  is  an  event  of  rare  occurrence,  and  the  ar- 
rival of  a  cruiser  squadron  an  era  of  so  much 
importance  as  to  be  celebrated  in  song.19  But 
the  natural  beauty  of  the  situation  of  Cove,  the 
salubrity  of  its  sea-breezes,  its  vicinity  to  Cork 
(the  distance  being  about  ten  miles),  and  the 
facility  of  the  communication  by  means  of  steam- 
boats, have  averted  the  anticipated  ruin  of  the 
place:  and  now  instead  of  the  gallant  seamen 
or  giddy  seaboy  full  of  health  and  animal  spir- 
its, we  too  often  encounter  the  poor  maiden  upon 


94  IRELAND 

whose  cheek  a  hectic  flush  speaks  of  an  early 
tomb;  or  some  youth,  whose  feeble  step  and 
emaciated  person  are  evidences  too  strong  to  be 
doubted  that  consumption  will  triumph,  and  that 
his  removal  to  a  genial  climate  had  been  too  long 
deferred.  The  mild  air  and  warm  southern 
aspect  of  Cove,  added  to  the  advantages  of  sea- 
bathing, strongly  recommend  it  to  invalids,  by 
whom,  from  all  parts  of  Ireland,  it  is  now  vis- 
ited.20 Among  those  whose  deaths  give  a  mel- 
ancholy interest  to  the  place,  may  be  mentioned 
Tobin,  the  author  of  the  "  Honey-Moon,"  who 
died,  within  sight  of  land,  on  his  passage  to  the 
West  Indies,  where  he  was  proceeding  for  the 
recovery  of  his  health.  The  Rev.  Charles  Wolfe, 
the  author  of  the  well-known  lines  upon  the  death 
of  Sir  John  Moore,  also  died  at  Cove,  of  con- 
sumption, in  the  spring  of  1823. 

It  is  singular  that  the  literary  fame  of  both 
Tobin  and  Wolfe  was  posthumous;  the  world 
knew  nothing  of  them,  or  of  their  genius  until 
their  hearts  were  indifferent  to  praise,  and  their 
ears  deaf  to  the  voice  of  the  charmer.  How 
beautifully,  and  in  what  an  affecting  manner,  did 
Sir  Humphrey  Davy  picture  the  melancholy 
glory  of  posthumous  fame  in  the  prologue  which 
he  wrote  for  poor  Tobin's  comedy  of  the  Honey- 
Moon!  The  ashes  of  Tobin  and  Wolfe  rest  in 
the  burial-ground  of  the  old  and  ruined  church 
of  Clonmel,  about  a  mile  to  the  rear  of  Cove. 

On  the  east  side  of  Cork  harbour,  and  about 
three  miles  from  the  shore,  is  the  small  town  of 
Cloyne — a  bishop's  see,  founded  in  the  sixth  cen- 


CORK  95 

tury,  by  St.  Colman.  The  cathedral  is  a  low 
cruciform  structure.  The  last  bishop  of  Cloyne 
was  Brinkley,  the  profound  mathematician  and 
eminent  astronomer,  who  was  consecrated  in 
1826,  and  died  in  1835,  when  the  see  merged  into 
that  of  Cork  and  Ross.  This  distinguished  prel- 
ate rose  from  a  pauper  school  in  Suffolk  to  the 
highest  scientific  rank  of  his  age,  and  his  memory 
will  long  be  cherished  at  Cloyne  as  one  of  the 
many  eminent  men  of  which  that  city-village  can 
boast.  Among  others,  may  be  mentioned  Bishop 
Woodward — remembered  as  the  controversial  op- 
ponent of  the  facetious  Father  O'Leary — who 
closed  an  argument  respecting  purgatory  by  ob- 
serving, that  his  lordship  might  "  go  farther  and 
fare  worse."  Cloyne  was  also  the  residence  of 
the  illustrious  Bishop  Berkeley,  to  whom  Pope 
ascribes 

"  Every  virtue  under  heaven ;  " 

and  to  see  whom,  it  is  said,  the  poet  contemplated 
a  visit  to  Ireland.  At  Cloyne  there  is  one  of 
those  singular  round  towers,  which  for  so  long 
a  period  have  excited  the  curiosity  of  antiquaries 
— whose  various  theories  we  shall  have  to  describe 
and  comment  upon  in  the  course  of  our  work. 
Its  conical  stone  roof  was  destroyed  by  light- 
ning in  the  year  1749.  The  neighbourhood  of 
Cloyne  abounds  with  natural  caves  in  the  lime- 
stone rock;  one  of  which,  in  the  episcopal 
grounds,  is  described  by  Bishop  Bennett,  in  a 
letter  to  Dr.  Parr,21  as  of  "  unknown  length  and 
depth,  branching  to  a  great  distance  under  the 


96  IRELAND 

earth,  and  sanctified  by  a  thousand  wild  tradi- 
tions." At  Castle  Mary,  a  fine  seat,  not  far 
from  Cloyne,  may  be  seen  one  of  those  ponderous 
masses  of  stone  supported  by  smaller  stones, 
which  are  popularly  termed  Druids'  altars,  or 
"  cromleachs;  "  and  close  to  it  is  a  smaller  one. 
The  incumbent  or  altar-stone  of  the  great  crom- 
leach  measures  fifteen  feet  in  length,  and  is  about 
eight  feet  wide  and  three  and  a  half  thick.  The 
position  of  both  is  inclined ;  from  which  it  is  con- 
jectured the  name  "  Cromleach,"  the  bending 
stone,  is  derived ;  although  many  antiquaries  con- 
tend for  the  derivation  from  Crom,  the  Jupiter 
Tonans  of  the  ancient  Irish.  Similar  rude  mon- 
uments are  found  in  all  parts  of  Ireland,  and 
necessarily  lead  to  an  inquiry  as  to  their  origin 
and  purpose.  We  shall  avail  ourselves  of  a 
future  opportunity  for  considering  the  matter  at 
some  length.  The  most  remarkable  seat  in  the 
vicinity  of  Cloyne  is  Rostellan,  the  mansion  of 
the  Marquis  of  Thomond ;  it  is  modern,  but  occu- 
pies the  site  of  an  ancient  castle  of  the  Fitzger- 
alds,  seneschals  of  Imokilly.  In  1648,  the  no- 
torious Lord  Inchiquin — famous  or  infamous, 
according  to  the  party  views  of  the  historian — 
obtained  a  grant  of  the  estate;  which  grant  was 
farther  confirmed  to  him  in  the  eighteenth  year 
of  Charles  II. 

Before  we  proceed  further  upon  our  journey, 
and  describe  the  northern  division  of  the  county 
— nearly  the  whole  of  which  is  bounded  by  the 
county  of  Limerick — it  will  be  well  to  picture 
the  vehicles,  in  one  or  other  of  which  the  tourist 


CORK  97 

will  have  to  travel.  We  shall  first,  however,  ad- 
vise him  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  good-humour,  for 
petty  annoyances  will  frequently  occur,  and  it 
is  a  coin  that  passes  current  everywhere,  but  is 
of  especial  value  in  Ireland ;  and  a  plentiful  sup- 
ply of  water-proof  clothing,  for  sunny  June  is 
no  more  to  be  trusted  than  showery  April.  Some 
one  has  said  that  the  only  day  on  which  you  can 
be  certain  to  escape  a  wetting  is  the  30th  of  Feb- 
ruary— a  day  that  never  comes ;  and  it  is  recorded 
of  Mr.  Fox,  we  believe,  that  whenever  he  re- 
ceived a  visitor  from  Ireland,  after  his  own 
brief  tour  in  the  country,  his  invariable  question 
was,  "  By  the  way,  is  that  shower  over  yet?  " 
This  is,  undoubtedly,  a  sad  drawback  upon 
pleasure;  the  humidity  of  the  atmosphere  is  a 
continual  affliction  to  those  who  are  not  used  to  it ; 
and  is  very  insufficiently  compensated  for  by  the 
fact  that  the  grass  in  Ireland  is  ever  green.  Yet 
the  evil  is  one  that  can  be  always  guarded  against. 
Machines  for  travelling  in  Ireland  are,  some 
of  them  at  least,  peculiar  to  the  country.  The 
stage-coaches  are  precisely  similar  to  those  in 
England,  and  travel  at  as  rapid  a  rate.  They, 
of  course,  run  upon  all  the  great  roads,  and  are 
constructed  with  due  regard  to  safety  and  con- 
venience. The  public  cars  of  M.  Bianconi  have, 
however,  to  a  large  extent,  displaced  the  regular 
coaches,  and  are  to  be  encountered  in  every  dis- 
trict in  the  south  of  Ireland.  In  form  they  re- 
semble the  common  outside  jaunting-car,  but  are 
calculated  to  hold  twelve,  fourteen,  or  sixteen 
persons;  they  are  well  horsed,  have  cautious  and 

V— 7 


98  IRELAND 

experienced  drivers,  are  generally  driven  with 
three  horses,  and  usually  travel  at  the  rate  of 
seven  Irish  miles  an  hour;  the  fares  averaging 
about  twopence  per  mile.  They  are  open  cars; 
but  a  huge  apron  of  leather  affords  considerable 
protection  against  rain;  and  they  may  be  de- 
scribed as,  in  all  respects,  very  comfortable  and 
convenient  vehicles.  It  would  be  difficult  for  a 
stranger  to  conceive  the  immense  influence  which 
this  establishment  has  had  upon  the  character 
and  condition  of  the  country;  its  introduction, 
indeed,  has  been  only  second  to  that  of  steam  in 
promoting  the  improvement  of  Ireland,  by  facili- 
tating intercourse  between  remote  districts,  and 
enabling  the  farmer  to  transact  his  own  business 
at  a  small  expense  and  with  little  sacrifice  of 
time.22  We  shall  describe  the  establishment  of 
this  enterprising  gentleman  when  we  visit  Clon- 
mel — its  headquarters.  Some  idea  of  its  extent 
may  be  gathered  from  the  fact,  that  his  stud 
consists  of  1,300  horses — a  larger  number  than 
her  Majesty  possesses  in  Ireland — that  his  cars 
travel,  daily,  3,500  miles,  and  visit  no  fewer  than 
128  cities  and  towns.23 

Post-chaises  are  now  very  seldom  used:  they 
are  to  be  had  in  the  larger  towns,  and  are  gen- 
erally cleanly  and  well  arranged;  very  different 
from  what  they  were  when  the  caricature  pictured 
them  as  thatched  with  straw,  from  the  bottom  of 
which  the  traveller's  legs  protruded.  Yet  this 
was  scarcely  an  exaggeration.  An  elderly  gen- 
tleman informed  us  that  he  once  made  a  journey 
in  one  of  them ;  it  came  on  to  rain ;  the  driver  drew 


CORK    .  99 

up  suddenly  and  addressed  his  fare — "  Ah  then, 
sir,  hadn't  ye  better  get  out  and  stand  behind 
the  carriage?  it'll  be  only  a  shower."  The  plan 
was  adopted,  for  the  wet  was  pouring  through 
the  broken  windows  and  down  the  dilapidated 
roof ;  and  the  device  was  the  only  mode  of  escap- 
ing a  thorough  drenching. 

The  cars  are  of  three  kinds;  "the  covered 
car"  (see  Plate  No.  2),  "the  inside  jaunting- 
car,"  and  the  "  outside  jaunting-car;  "  the  latter 
being  the  one  most  generally  in  use,  and  the  only 
one  employed  in  posting.  The  two  former,  in- 
deed, can  seldom  be  procured  except  in  large 
towns.  The  covered  car  is  a  comparatively  re- 
cent introduction,  its  sole  recommendation  being 
that  it  is  weather-proof,  for  it  effectually  pre- 
vents a  view  of  the  country,  except  through  the 
two  little  peep-hole  windows  in  front,  or  by  tying 
back  the  oil-skin  curtains  behind.  Our  longer 
journeys  were,  notwithstanding,  made  in  this 
machine;  it  preserved  us  from  many  a  wetting, 
and  we  endeavoured  to  remedy  the  evil  of  con- 
finement by  stopping  at  every  promising  spot, 
and  either  getting  out  or  making  the  driver  turn 
his  vehicle  round,  so  that,  from  the  back,  we 
might  command  the  prospect  we  desired.24  This 
class  of  cars  has  of  late  multiplied  greatly  in  all 
the  large  towns;  they  are,  in  Ireland,  what  the 
hackney-coaches  and  cabriolets  are  in  England. 

The  inside  jaunting-car  is  not  often  to  be  hired ; 
it  is  usually  private  property,  and  is,  perhaps,  the 
most  comfortable,  as  well  as  elegant,  of  the  ve- 
hicles of  the  country. 


100  IRELAND 

The  outside  jaunting-car  is  that  to  which  es- 
pecial reference  is  made  when  speaking  of  the 
"  Irish "  car.  It  is  exceedingly  light,  presses 
very  little  upon  the  horse,  and  is  safe  as  well  as 
convenient;  so  easy  is  it  to  get  on  and  off,  that 
both  are  frequently  done  while  the  machine  is  in 
motion.  It  is  always  driven  with  a  single  horse ; 
the  driver  occupies  a  small  seat  in  front,  and  the 
travellers  sit  back  to  back,25  the  space  between 
them  being  occupied  by  "  the  well " — a  sort  of 
boot  for  luggage ;  but  when  there  is  only  one  pas- 
senger the  driver  usually  places  himself  on  the 
opposite  seat  "  to  balance  the  car,"  the  motion  of 
which  would  be  awkward  if  one  side  was  much 
heavier  than  the  other.  The  foot-"  board "  is 
generally  of  iron,  and  is  made  to  move  on  hinges, 
so  it  may  be  turned  up  to  protect  the  cushions 
during  rain.  This  foot-board  projects  consid- 
erably beyond  the  wheels,  and  would  seem  to  be 
dangerous;  but  in  cases  of  collision  with  other 
vehicles,  a  matter  of  no  very  rare  occurrence,  the 
feet  are  raised,  and  injury  is  sustained  only  by 
the  machine.  The  private  cars  of  this  description 
are,  of  course,  neatly  and  carefully  made,  and 
have  a  character  of  much  elegance;  but  those 
which  are  hired  are,  in  general,  badly  built,  dirty, 
and  uncomfortable;  yet  in  nine  places  out  of 
ten  the  traveller  has  no  chance  of  obtaining  a 
vehicle  of  any  other  description,  and  will  often 
find,  even  in  a  populous  town,  that  if  "  the  car  " 
be  out,  he  must  wait  until  its  return.  He  will 
never  have  any  difficulty  in  procuring  a  horse, 
and  as  to  drivers,  any  "  boy  "  will  answer  for  the 


CORK  101 

nonce;  but  cars  are  seldom  more  numerous  than 
"  head  inns,"  that  is  to  say,  one  generally  suffices 
for  a  town.  In  New  Ross,  we  were  detained 
two  hours  before  we  could  proceed  on  our  road  to 
Wexford.  A  car,  therefore,  is  usually  hired  for 
a  journey,  changing  horses  on  the  route.  The 
charge  for  posting  is  sixpence  a  mile  for  two 
persons,  and  eightpence  a  mile  if  the  travellers 
exceed  two.  This  is  a  rule  all  over  the  country, 
except  in  the  county  of  Wicklow,  where  the  rate 
is  eightpence  a  mile — the  consequence  has  been, 
that  the  greater  number  of  tourists  hire  a  ma- 
chine in  Dublin,  and  are  not  customers  at  the 
inns  on  the  road.  The  injurious  change  has  been 
introduced  by  the  keeper  of  the  hotel  at  Bray, 
who,  we  understood,  has  compelled  the  other  post- 
masters to  act  with  him,  much  against  their  in- 
clinations; for  the  demand  is  not  a  just  one;  the 
prices  being  equal  to  those  in  England,  where  the 
tax  upon  hired  vehicles  is  large,  and  where  all 
the  other  articles  connected  with  it  will  cost  at 
least  double. 

The  car,  or  rather  cars,  used  by  the  peasantry, 
requires  some  notice.  Flat  boards  are  placed 
across  it,  and  upon  these  straw  is  laid,  and  often 
a  feather-bed.  These  vehicles  are  now,  however, 
nearly  obsolete;  we  met  but  few  of  them  during 
our  latest  journey;  their  unfitness  having  been 
understood,  they  have  given  way  before  modern 
improvement. 

In  Ireland  there  are  few  turnpikes,  the  repairs 
of  the  roads  usually  falling  upon  the  county, 
money  for  the  purpose  being  annually  voted  by 


102  IRELAND 

the  grand  juries.  The  roads  are  for  the  most 
part  good;  and,  of  late  years,  a  better  system 
of  surveying,  so  largely  introduced  into  the  coun- 
try, has  led  to  the  formation  of  "  new  lines  "  to 
nearly  every  place  of  importance.  The  old  plan, 
therefore,  of  carrying  a  road  "  as  the  bird  flies," 
up  and  down  the  steepest  hills,  through  morasses, 
and  along  the  brinks  of  frightful  precipices,  has 
been  entirely  abandoned;  and  at  present,  the 
carriage  will,  generally,  require  springs  no 
stronger  than  those  which  are  used  in  England.26 
The  lover  of  the  picturesque,  indeed,  will  not  un- 
frequently  prefer  the  rugged  pathway  of  former 
times,  and  think  himself  amply  repaid  for  greater 
toil  and  fatigue  by  the  prospect  opened  to  him 
from  the  mountain  tops,  or  the  refreshment  he 
derives  from  following  the  course  of  the  river 
that  rushes  through  the  valley.  He  will,  how- 
ever, sometimes  have  to  leave  the  car,  and  walk 
through  a  morass,  over  a  broken  bridge,  or  along 
dangerous  ravines,  which  time  has  deprived  of 
the  wall  that  once  guarded  it. 

The  miles  are  now  generally  measured  as  Eng- 
lish miles,  and,  in  posting,  charged  for  accord- 
ingly. At  present  this  causes  some  confusion; 
the  natives  being  as  yet  unable  to  comprehend 
how  it  is  that  familiar  places  have  removed  far- 
ther from  each  other.  We  asked  of  one  of  them 
the  distance  from  Cork  to  Kinsale:  "  Troth,  sir," 
he  answered,  "it's  hard  to  say;  not  long  ago 
'twas  twelve  miles;  but  they've  been  flinging 
stones  at  each  other  (fixing  milestones),  and 
Kinsale  is  druv  a  good  step  farther  from  Cork; 


CORK  103 

it's  English  roads  they've  made  of  them;  wisha 
bad  luck  to  them — it's  everything  Irish  they're 
taking  from  us — except  the  poverty  and  the  sod." 
Persons  who  have  never  travelled  in  Ireland 
can  have  but  a  very  inadequate  idea  of  the  wit 
and  humour  of  the  Irish  car-drivers.  They  are 
for  the  most  part  a  thoughtless  and  reckless  set 
of  men,  living  upon  chances,  always  "  taking  the 
world  aisy  " — that  is  to  say,  having  no  care  for 
the  morrow,  and  seldom  being  owners  of  a  more 
extensive  wardrobe  than  the  nondescript  mixture 
they  carry  about  their  persons.  They  are  the 
opposites  in  all  respects  of  the  English  postilions 
— the  latter  do  their  duty,  but  seldom  familiarize 
their  "  fares  "  to  the  sound  of  their  voices;  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten  the  traveller  never  exchanges  a 
word  with  his  post-boy;  a  touch  of  the  hat  ac- 
knowledges the  gratuity  when  "  the  stage  "  is 
ended,  and  the  driver,  having  consigned  his 
charge  to  his  successor,  departs  usually  in  igno- 
rance whether  his  chaise  has  contained  man, 
woman,  or  child.  He  neither  knows,  nor  cares 
for,  aught  of  their  concerns,  except  that  he  is  to 
advance  so  many  miles  upon  such  a  road,  accord- 
ing to  the  instructions  of  his  employer.  The 
Irish  driver,  on  the  contrary,  will  ascertain,  dur- 
ing your  progress,  where  you  come  from,  where 
you  are  going,  and,  very  often,  what  you  are 
going  about.  He  has  a  hundred  ways  of  wiling 
himself  into  your  confidence,  and  is  sure  to  put 
in  a  word  or  two  upon  every  available  oppor- 
tunity; yet  in  such  a  manner  as  to  render  it  im- 
possible for  you  to  subject  him  to  the  charge 


104  IRELAND 

of  impertinence.  Indeed  it  is  a  striking  pecul- 
iarity of  the  lower  classes  of  the  Irish  that  they 
can  be  familiar  without  being  presuming ;  tender 
advice  without  appearing  intrusive;  and  even 
command  your  movements  without  seeming  to 
interfere,  in  the  least,  with  your  own  free-will. 
This  quality  the  car-driver  enjoys  to  perfection. 
We  engaged  one  at  Clogheen.  "  Ah  then  is  it 
to  Cahir  ye're  going,  sir? — and  it's  from  Lismore 
ye're  coming,  I'll  go  bail."  "  You've  made  a 
good  guess."  "  Maybe  it's  to  my  lord's  I'll  be 
driving  ye?  "  "  Not  so  lucky  this  time."  "  To 
Mr.  Grubb's  did  ye  say,  sir?  "  "  No."  "  Well 
then  it's  to  Mr.  FenneU's  yer  honour'll  be  telling 
me  to  drive  ye?  "  "  Yes."  "  Is  it  to  Mr.  Joe 
Fennell's,  or  Mr.  Jonas  Fennell's,  or  Mr.  Fen- 
neU's of  the  cottage?"  And  then  came  a  long 
history  of  all  of  the  name  who  dwell  in  or  near 
one  of  the  prettiest  and  cleanest  towns  of  Ire- 
land;— "the  quakers,  yer  honour,  all  owing  to 
the  quakers,"  quoth  our  driver,  as  he  gave  his 
steed  the  whip  to  "go  in  style  "  up  the  long 
avenue. 

A  few  characteristic  anecdotes  of  the  genus 
may  amuse  our  readers.  Some  one  tells  a  story 
of  a  fellow  who,  on  grumbling  at  the  shilling 
gratuity  at  his  journey's  end,  said  in  a  sly  under 
tone,  "  Faith  it's  not  putting  me  off  with  this 
ye'd  be,  if  ye  knew  but  all."  The  traveller's 
curiosity  was  excited.  "What  do  you  mean?  " 
"  Oh  faix!  that  'ud  be  telling."  Another  shilling 
was  tendered.  "  And  now,"  asked  the  gentle- 
man, "  what  do  you  mean  by  saying  if  you  knew 


CORK  105 

but  all?"  "That  I  druv  yer  honour  the  last 
three  miles  widout  a  linch-pin!"  We  had  our- 
selves once  a  touching  application  for  the  string 
of  our  cloak  "  to  tie  up  a  small  bit  of  the  harness 
that  was  broke  into  smithereens  from  the  weight 
of  the  hill."  "  Will  I  pay  the  pike  or  drive  at 
it,  plase  yer  honour? "  was  the  exclamation  of  a 
driver  to  his  passenger,  as  he  suddenly  drew  up 
a  few  yards  from  the  turnpike-gate.  One  of  the 
richest  characters  of  the  class,  we  encountered 
on  the  road  from  Ross  to  Wexford;  he  told  us 
how  he  got  his  first  situation. — "  The  masther  had 
two  beautiful  English  horses,  and  he  wanted  a 
careful  man  to  drive  them;  he  was  a  mighty 
pleasant  gintleman,  and  loved  a  joke.  Well, 
there  was  as  many  as  fifteen  af ther  the  place,  and 
the  first  that  wint  up  to  him,  '  Now,  my  man,' 
says  he,  '  tell  me,'  says  he,  '  how  near  the  edge  of 
a  precipice  would  you  undertake  to  drive  my 
carriage? '  So  the  boy  considered,  and  he  says, 
says  he,  '  Within  a  foot,  plaze  yer  honour,  and 
no  harm.' — '  Very  well,'  says  he,  '  go  down,  and 
I'll  give  ye  yer  answer  by-and-by.'  So  the  next 
came  up,  and  said  he'd  be  bound  to  carry  'em 
within  half  a  foot ;  and  the  next  said  five  inches ; 
and  another — a  dandyfied  chap  intirely — was  so 
mighty  nice,  that  he  would  drive  it  within  '  three 
inches  and  a  half,  he'd  go  bail.'  Well,  at  last  my 
turn  came,  and  when  his  honour  axed  me  how 
nigh  I  would  drive  his  carriage  to  a  precipice,  I 
said,  says  I,  '  Plaze  yer  honour,  I'd  keep  as  far 
off  it  as  I  could/ — '  Very  well,  Misther  Byrne,' 
says  he,  '  you're  my  coachman,'  says  he.  Och, 


106  IRELAND 

the  roar  there  was  in  the  kitchen  whin  I  wint 

down  and  tould  the  joke  I  "     When  Mr.  V , 

the  assistant  Poor  Law  Commissioner,  first  vis- 
ited Cork,  the  coach  by  which  he  arrived  set  him 
down  next  door  to  the  Imperial  Hotel — his  place 
of  destination.  Not  being  aware  of  this  fact, 
he  ordered  a  car,  and  gave  his  direction  to  the 
driver.  The  fellow  conducted  him  round  the 
town,  and  through  various  streets  and  lanes,  and 
after  an  hour's  driving  placed  him  at  the  hotel 
entrance,  demanding  and  receiving  a  sum  of  five 
shillings,  which  his  victim  considered  a  reasonable 
charge.  A  few  minutes  afterwards  he  discovered 
the  trick  that  had  been  played  upon  him. 

The  car-drivers  who  ply  in  the  streets  look  as 
if  they  duly  regarded  their  own  ease,  and  that 
business  was,  with  them,  a  secondary  consider- 
ation. You  sometimes  find  them  standing  on 
the  pavement,  their  handkerchiefs  floating  negli- 
gently around  their  necks,  and  their  long  loose 
coats  flapping  about  their  legs — or  lounging  on 
the  bar  or  box  of  their  car  or  jingle,  touching 
their  hats  with  a  leering  civility — or  elevating 
what  serves  for  a  whip  if  they  think  a  fare  is  ap- 
proaching. To  see  them  thus  you  would  im- 
agine them  heedless  of  their  interests;  but  ask 
a  question  of  one  touching  time  or  distance,  and 
the  whole  body  start  immediately  into  life  and 
activity.  "  Ah  thin  sure  it  isn't  he  that  can  tell 
yer  honour  the  distance;  but  I'll  tell  ye  what  he 
can  do — double  it."  "  I'm  first  on  the  stand, 
and  see  what  a  beautiful  baste  I  have." 
"  Thin! "  "  Oh  bedad  she's  not  thin— f  aix  it  was 


CORK  107 

myself  was  obligated  to  put  her  on  a  regiment  to 
get  her  into  racing  order;  she  was  so  over  and 
above  fat."  "  Ah  sure  it  isn't  going  to  trust 
yerself  on  an  outside  car  ye  are,  and  the  rain 
gothering  itself  in  oceans  above  yer  head;  just 
come  a  piece  of  the  way  in  this,  yer  honour. 
Sure  it's  easy  enough  to  get  out  if  ye  don't  like 
it."  "  Don't  be  beguiling  the  strange  lady  and 
gentleman  wid  yer  gosther,  Micky ;  sure  ye  know 
that  garron  won't  lave  the  stand,  barrin  ye  give 
him  yer  oath,  before  a  witness,  it's  home  to  the 
stable  he's  going."  "  Bedad!  I'd  scorn  to  ax  the 
likes  of  ye  into  my  beautiful  jingle — barrin  it 
was  the  best  in  Cork,  which  it  is.  Sure  it's  only 
my  fare  I'll  ax — laving  any  other  little  thrifle  to 
yer  honour — on  account  of  the  wife  and  chil- 
dren." This  "  leaving  to  your  honour,"  is,  by 
the  way,  always  a  most  expensive  mode  of  pay- 
ment. 

The  car-drivers  in  Cork  and  Dublin  seem  also 
to  have  an  especial  eye  on  the  goings  and  comings 
of  the  inhabitants.  We  stopped  one  morning  to 
knock  at  a  gentleman's  door;  a  lazy-looking 
"  jingle  boy  "  was  lounging  against  the  area  rails. 
"  Oh  bedad !  "  he  said,  shifting  his  position,  "  if 
it  is  Mr.  so  and  so  ye'r  wantin',  he's  off  these 
two  hours  to  Cove,  and  a  fine  shaking  he'll  get  on 
Lary  Clooney's  car,  if  he  gets  no  worse;  sorra  a 
spring  on  these  twelve  months — barring  a  tow- 
rope." 

In  England  and  in  France  the  postilions  bully 
you  out  of  your  money — in  Ireland  they  coax 
or  laugh  it  out  of  your  pockets.  "  Well,  I'm 


108  IRELAND 

not  going  to  deny  but  it's  all  I  have  a  right  to, 
but  I'd  like  another  little  shilling,  to  show  the 
people  that  yer  honour  was  satisfied,  and  had  a 
regard  for  the  counthry." — "  I've  waited  yer 
honour's  leisure  this  ever  so  long,"  said  one  fel- 
low, "  till  ye'd  have  time  to  make  me  the  little 
present  ye  war  thinking  of"  We  took  a  short 
excursion  one  morning,  somewhat  early,  and  the 
horse  on  descending  a  hill  commenced  kicking  in 
such  an  extraordinary  manner,  that  instead  of 
becoming  alarmed  we  laughed  heartily  at  the 
oddity  and  obstinacy  of  the  animal,  which,  aided 
by  the  apologies  and  explanations  of  the  driver, 
were  inconceivably  ludicrous : — "  Look  now, 
ma'am,  it's  the  quietest  baste  in  Ireland,"  [kick, 
kick,]  "  but  it's  a  small  taste  frolicsome,  out  of 
play,"  [kick,  kick,  kick]  [Aside  to  the  horse.] 
"I'll  give  it  ye,  ye  baste,  whin  I  get  ye  home, 
to  be  exposing  me  this  way."  [Aloud.]  "  It's 
the  blood  ye  see,  sir,  the  rale  quality  blood  that's 
in  it, — sure  his  mother  won  the  plate  at  the  Cur- 
ragh  o'  Kildare,  and  it's  only  too  quiet  this  cray- 
thure  is,"  [kick.]  [Aside.]  "  Ah,  ye  venom- 
ous sarpint,  ye'r  at  it  again."  "  Except  when  it 
goes  out  too  early  of  a  mornin' — it  understands 
the  fashions,  and  I  never  get  much  good  of  him 
before  tin  or  half-past  tin  any  way."  The  poor 
animal  who  "  understood  the  fashions,"  looked  as 
if  he  had  not  tasted  oats  for  a  month,  and  yet  he 
was  the  most  determined  kicker  on  a  hill's  side 
we  ever  encountered.  In  the  end,  to  get  home 
the  descendant  of  noble  blood,  the  driver  was 
actually  obliged  to  turn  the  car  round,  and  back 


CORK  109 

it  for  nearly  half  a  mile,  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill. 
On  our  return  the  man  was  amply  paid;  he 
turned  over  and  over  the  money  in  his  hand, 
glancing  his  eye  up  and  around  with  an  expres- 
sion of  cunning  we  cannot  easily  forget.  "  Are 
you  not  satisfied? "  was  our  natural  inquiry. 
"  Oh  yes,  quite  satisfied,  and  I'm  sure  yer  hon- 
ours war  satisfied  too — only  the  lady  laughed  so 
hard  at  the  haste's  tricks,  that  I  thought  yer  hon- 
our would  give  me  another  little  sixpence." 

Such  are  the  fellows  who  drive,  according  to 
their  own  showing,  "  for  the  convaynience  of  the 
quality."  Sly,  inquisitive,  good-natured,  ready- 
witted,  noisy;  and,  when  whiskey  was  in  the  as- 
cendant, sometimes  insolent,  yet  mingling  their 
very  insolence  with  a  ripe  humour  that  usually 
disarmed  anger — the  Irish  car-driver  is  alto- 
gether different  from  a  "  jarvy  "  of  any  other 
country.  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  forget  our 
landing  at  Kingstown: — the  tribe  which  congre- 
gate outside  the  rail-road  wall,  offering  to  take 
you  and  your  luggage  for  "  next  to  nothing,  or 
nothing  at  all,  if  it  be  plazing  to  you ;  "  endeavour- 
ing to  divert  attention  from  the  fizzing  train,  by 
every  possible  and  impossible  means; — waving 
their  whips  in  the  air — clinging  to  the  outer  walls 
like  so  many  cats — chattering,  swearing,  shout- 
ing, lying — without  the  smallest  visitings  of 
conscience. 

"  Faith,  sir,  it  isn't  because  the  coach  road  is 
shorter  and  pleasanter,  and  gone  in  half  the  time 
of  the  train  yer  honour,  that  I  spake — only  be- 
cause of  the  lady  and  yerself ,  sir.  Oh,  then  it'll 


110  IRELAND 

be  a  woeful  thing  afther  escaping  the  dangers  of 
the  say,  to  see  that  sweet  lady  blown  up  sky  high, 
or  crushed  into  smithereens  under  that  baste  of  a 
dirty  ingine.  Sure  it  is  the  lady's  life,  and  the 
honour  of  ould  Ireland  I'm  thinkin'  of,  sir.  I'd 
be  sorry  to  see  her  mangled  the  way  you  know, 
Tim,  the  poor  woman  an'  her  dear  innocent 
babby  was  kilt  intirely  yesterday  morning ! " 
This  was  said  to  ourselves  two  years  ago;  while 
the  speaker,  having  drawn  his  car  as  close  as 
possible  to  the  barrier,  stood  on  his  driving  seat 
leaning  one  hand  on  the  wall  that  very  properly 
protects  the  rail-road,  and  flourishing  his  whip 
in  the  air.  "  Paytronise  the  counthry,  sir,"  ex- 
claimed another.  "  Paythriotism  for  ever,  and 
no  rail-roads!  to  the  dickens  with  them."  "  And 
those  who  go  by  them,"  added  an  ill-looking  fel- 
low, twisting  his  shoulders,  and  casting  a  most 
malicious  scowl  from  a  countenance  set  in  a  black 
frame  of  dingy  whiskers.  "  Hould  your  tongue, 
ye  sinner!"  exclaimed  another,  with  an  ironical, 
half -serious  expression  of  face ;  "  it's  down  upon 
your  hard-hearted  knees  you  ought  to  go,  to 
pray  for  the  poor  deluded  strangers  in  a  furrin 
land,  as  this  is  to  them,  that  don't  know  better 
than  to  trust  their  innocent  limbs  into  ould  Nick's 
punch-powl.  Ye'll  never  see  Dublin  my  dar- 
lints — and  more's  the  pity — for  it's  a  beautiful 
city.  Ye'll  be  spilt  like  a  drop  of  skim  milk,  and 
smashed  like  a  mealy  potato! — before  ye  reach 
the  station — the  only  station  in  the  country  I 
never  cared  to  spind  much  time  at."  "  Here's 
a  beautiful  car — a  handsome  car — an  illigant 


CORK  111 

car;  room  for  four,  and  two  in  the  well,"  bawled 
forth  another.  "  And  nothin'  to  pay — nothin' 
to  pay — Jack  Dawson  only  wants  them — for  the 
pleasure  of  their  company."  And  the  last  hu- 
man sound  we  distinguished  while  the  train  was 
in  the  act  of  starting,  was  a  yell  of  execration  at 
the  engine. 

The  driver  of  the  common  cart,  the  "  Paddys  " 
met  with  in  every  public  road  and  by-lane,  are 
altogether  of  an  opposite  nature.  Some  (the 
juveniles)  in  broad-leaved  straw  hats  and  loose 21 
flannel  jackets,  seldom  encumbered  with  shoes, 
lounging  or  rolicking,  or  mounted  on  the  lean 
backs  of  their  horses;  others,  old  roadsters,  in 
long  heavy  grey  or  blue  frieze  coats;  hats  worn 
into  every  hue  and  shape  by  long  service,  either 
dangling  their  legs  from  the  off  shaft  of  the  car ; 
or  stretched  along  it,  if  it  be  empty,  in  a  state 
closely  approximating  to  sleep. 

If  you  are  in  a  particular  hurry,  and  want  to 
pass  a  fellow  of  this  description  on  the  road, 
there  are  ten  chances  to  one  he  will  let  you  go  by, 
at  last,  without  allowing  you  to  ascertain  whether 
his  keeping  so  perseveringly  on  the  right,  when 
he  ought  to  have  been  on  the  left — or  on  the  left, 
when  he  ought  to  have  been  on  the  right — was  the 
effect  of  ignorance,  or  a  determination  not  so 
much  to  annoy  as  to  be  amused  at  your  expense. 
The  probability  is,  that  when  you  are  fairly  out 
of  sight  he  laughs  merrily,  and  exclaims,  "  Well, 
I  got  a  good  rize  out  of  'em,  any  how;  how  par- 
ticular they  war  about  the  side,  as  if  it  mattered 
a  traneen  which  was  right,  or  which  was  wrong, 


112  IRELAND 

so  they  got  on."  "  Here's  a  brother,"  exclaims 
the  driver  of  your  city  jingle,  perceiving  a  string 
of  cars  in  the  midst  of  the  road ;  he  shouts  to  them 
to  get  out  of  the  way;  two  or  three  on  the  line, 
catching  hold  of  their  horses'  heads,  turn  ab- 
ruptly to  the  left;  one  or  two  others  twist  off  to 
the  right — while  the  advance  guard,  apparently, 
neither  see  nor  hear  the  admonition  of  the  per- 
plexed charioteer.  ;<  To  the  dickens  with  you!  " 
he  exclaims; — "we  thought  you  wanted  us  out 
of  your  way,"  is  the  ready  reply.  "  Will  ye  go 
on? "  "  Bedad,  we've  never  stopt  all  day." 
"Will  you  draw  to  the  left?"  "Why  didn't 
ye  tell  us  that  before?  Which  is  the  left?" 
asks  a  ragged  wag,  keeping  his  horse  and  car 
positively  across  the  road,  and  making  the  in- 
quiry in  a  humble  voice,  while  his  eyes  dance  with 
mischief — "  Will  ye  be  plazed  to  tell  us  the  dif- 
fer, sir?  how  do  poor  ignorant  boys  like  us 
know?  " 

We  overtook  a  line  of  this  nature  one  morning 
near  Cork;  cheerful,  lazy-looking  fellows,  re- 
turning to  the  country  with  empty  cars,  and 
lolling  in  them  with  evident  delight.  They  were 
bent  on  tormenting;  for  no  sooner  did  one  get 
out  of  the  way  than  another  got  into  it.  Our 
machine  was  covered,  so  that  they  could  not  see 
who  was  inside.  The  driver  managed  to  pass 
two,  and  one  of  the  men  immediately  hallooed 
to  his  companions — "  Boys,  boys,  I  say,  show 
yer  manners — there's  a  lady  in  the  car."  This 
was  enough;  they  proved  in  a  moment  that  they 
did  know  right  from  wrong,  and  touched  their 


CORK  113 

hats  as  we  passed — their  native  politeness  con- 
quering their  desire  for  fun. 

Nothing  can  be  more  distinct  than  the  air  and 
manner,  not  only  of  the  men,  but  of  the  very 
horses  employed  in  agricultural  labour  in  Eng- 
land, and  in  Ireland.  The  English  peasant  is 
well-clad,  erect,  and  intent  on  his  business ;  there 
is  nothing  particularly  cheerful  or  intelligent  in 
his  appearance,  though  there  is  much  of  good 
nature  about  him;  and  his  warm  jacket,  his 
worsted  stockings,  his  strong  shoes,  his  substan- 
tial whip,  which  he  rather  supports  than  holds, 
tell  of  his  comforts;  he  walks  firmly  and  at  a 
good  pace  by  the  side  of  his  charge,  and  keeps, 
cautiously,  on  the  right  side  of  the  road.  The 
very  horse  has  an  attempt  at  an  aristocratic  curve 
in  his  muscular  neck,  and  is  perfectly  aware  that 
the  sooner  his  journey  is  performed,  so  much  the 
sooner  will  his  cold  nose  dip  into  its  bag  of  warm 
oats. 

The  Englishman  pauses  as  he  passes  along, 
and  after  "  who-aing  "  to  his  horse,  looks  over 
the  hedge  to  ascertain  the  state  of  the  crops,  be 
it  oat,  wheat,  or  barley — he  has  an  interest  in  all, 
because  he  partakes  of  all.  The  Irishman  casts 
many  a  look  at  the  potato  fields,  but  at  no  other, 
and  he  breathes  a  deep  and  earnest  prayer  "  that 
the  Lord  will  stand  the  poor  man's  friend,  and 
not  send  them  another  hard  summer."  We  used 
to  blame  them  severely  for  their  loiterings,  and 
we  still  deeply  lament  that  they  are  not  taught 
the  value  of  time  by  being  paid  in  proportion  to 
its  employment.  About  eight  years  ago,  driv- 

V— 8 


114  IRELAND 

ing  through  one  of  the  poorest  districts  in  Ire- 
land, we  overtook  a  man  who  was  literally  creep- 
ing along  by  the  side  of  his  little  car,  which  was 
filled  with  sea  ore.  '  You  do  not  seem  in  haste 
with  your  work,"  we  observed,  in  a  somewhat  re- 
proachful tone. 

"  In  haste  with  my  work ! "  he  answered. 
"  God  bless  you!  it's  little  you  or  the  likes  of  you 
knows  the  sort  of  encouragement  I  get  to  be  in 
*  haste  with  my  work.'  You  pass  us  by  with 
warm  blood  in  yer  veins,  and  the  strength  of  the 
counihry  in  yer  bones;  and  God  keep  it  to  ye. 
Ye  pass  us  by  on  yer  easy  cars,  drawn  by  well- 
fed  horses,  and  drov'  by  light  hearts,  and  ye  see 
a  poor  man  like  myself  by  the  road  side,  whose 
steps  are  heavy  with  throuble,  and  who  knows 
that  whether  he  makes  haste  or  not,  all  he  can  earn 
will  hardly  keep  him  an'  his  from  black  starvation. 
We  have  no  encouragement  in  these  parts  to  be 
in  '  haste  with  our  work.'  This  load  is  not  for 
my  own  garden — I  have  none  now.  What  good 
is  it  for  a  poor  man  to  work  quick?  sure  he  only 
doubles  his  labour,  and  gets  no  more  pay;  or 
what  good  is  it  for  him,"  he  added  bitterly, 
"  what  good  is  it  for  him  to  be  put  slavin'  on 
the  world  at  all,  at  all!  except,"  he  continued, 
and  he  raised  his  hat  as  he  uttered  the  words, 
"  that  it's  the  will  of  the  Almighty — and  that's 
enough — praise  be  to  His  name !  " 

We  would  entreat  the  traveller  to  pause  and 
inquire  why  the  contrast  is  so  great  between  the 
activity  of  a  naturally  slow  people  and  the  tardi- 
ness of  a  naturally  quick  people — and  reflect  a 


CORK  115 

little  before  he  adds  the  brand  of  indolence  to 
the  many  brands  that  have  been  inflicted  on  the 
Irish  character.  An  Irishman  wants  neither 
energy  nor  activity  when  cause  is  shown  him  why 
he  should  be  energetic  and  active ;  his  great  want 
is  perseverance.  We  have  often  thought  that 
good  landlords  could  conquer  even  the  semblance 
of  loitering  amongst  their  labourers,  if  they  paid 
by  the  work  done  rather  than  the  day,  apportion- 
ing it  so  that  the  peasant,  without,  overtaxing 
his  strength,  by  being  industrious  could  earn  a 
penny  or  twopence  more  daily,  by  steady  endur- 
ance: but  upon  this  topic  we  shall  have  to  dilate 
hereafter. 

In  country  towns  there  are  no  public  stands 
for  cars  of  any  kind:  they  can  be  hired,  as  we 
have  intimated,  at  the  principal  inn,  or,  as  it  is 
generally  called,  the  "  first  hotel."  Sometimes 
individuals  manage  to  "  start  a  car,"  or  "  set  up 
a  jingle,"  and  in  such  cases  drive  it  themselves; 
those  persons  are  usually  well-informed  in  leg- 
ends and  localities,  and  always  well  pleased  to 
obtain  a  listener.  The  most  amusing  of  the  class 
we  ever  knew,  was  a  tall,  lanky  fellow,  whose 
real  name  was  Mogue  Furlong,  but  who  was 
better  known  in  his  own  particular  district  as 
"  Mogue  the  Rattler."  Mogue  was  in  the  con- 
fidence of  many  a  youth  and  maiden,  for,  as  he 
said,  the  jaunting-car  was  the  most  convanient 
thing  for  "  coortin' "  that  ever  was  invinted. 
'  Ye  see,"  said  the  Rattler,  "  I  know  at  once 
when  people  are  married  or  single;  if  they're 
keeping  company,  they  tell  me  to  balance  the  car 


116  IRELAND 

by  sitting  on  the  other  side — for  the  sake  of  the 
horse,  to  be  sure! — if  they're  married,  bedad! 
they  let  me  keep  my  own  sate,  and  balance  it 
themselves! " 

A  proud  man  was  Mogue  when  the  liberality 
of  a  gentleman — whose  hand,  while  he  had  life, 
never  closed  upon  his  purse — enabled  him  to  set 
up  a  car  for,  as  he  said,  "  the  convanience  of  the 
neighbours,  and  his  own  profit."  Mogue  was  a 
patriot,  and  had  his  car  painted  a  bright  green; 
and  as  he  desired  the  country  at  large  to  be  in- 
formed of  his  wealth,  he  had  an  inscription  on 
the  back  of  his  vehicle,  "  Mogue  Furlong  his  car 
for  the  public  and  his  friends  laves  home  twice 
a  week  wind  and  weather  permitting. — P.S.  let 
on  hire  when  not  goin'."  Mogue  sported  a  very 
loose,  ill-fitting  coat,  a  huge  whip,  with  a  lash 
long  enough,  as  he  said,  "  to  keep  the  childre  and 
the  pigs  from  under  the  horse's  feet,"  and  his 
"  new  "  beaver  was  an  "  ould  "  hat  belonging  to 
the  coachman  at  the  big  house,  a  tributary  offer- 
ing to  the  Rattler's  new  "  vocation;  "  as,  however, 
the  coachman's  head  was  large  and  Mogue's 
small,  he  was  obliged  to  stuff  it  with  a  wisp  of 
hay  or  straw,  or  some  such  material,  to  render 
it  "  a  beautiful  fit,"  and  he  generally  managed 
by  such  means  to  keep  it  off  his  eyes;  he  was  a 
very  tall,  powerful  man,  but  gentle  and  good- 
tempered,  as  powerful  men  usually  are.  Dur- 
ing the  summer  he  had  abundant  occupation  in 
driving  "  the  Bathers"  (he  lived  in  a  sea-side 
village)  to  the  sea.  No  matter  how  many 
crowded  into  his  car;  "the  more  the  merrier" 


CORK  117 

was  Mogue's  constant  observation,  ( "  three  of  a 
side  and  two  in  the  well,")  and  he  aided  not  a 
little  to  make  them  merry,  for  he  was  the  very 
soul  of  sly  and  quiet  humour.  In  those  days 
the  "  Flirting  Cushions,"  that  well-stuffed  and 
most  lounging  appendage  to  a  modern  outside 
car,  was  not  known;  and  we  have  seen  three  or 
four  children  laughing  in  "  the  well,"  while  mam- 
mas, grown-up  sisters,  and  nurses  crowded  the 
sides.  Twice  a-week  Mogue  repaired,  "  wind 
and  weather  permitting,"  to  the  county  town, 
and  certainly  no  one  envied  his  occupation: 
every  thing  that  the  inventive  faculties  of  a  whole 
parish — in  which  were  ten  or  a  dozen  rustic 
beauties — every  thing  from  a  pennyworth  of 
mixed  hair-pins  up  to  a  bonnet,  from  a  "  quarten 
of  tea  "  to  a  side  of  pork,  was  Mogue  expected 
to  convey  for  next  to  nothing — or  pure  love. 
"  Ah  thin,  Mogue  honey,  don't  forget  the  crooked 
comb;  what '11  I  do  if  you  do,  and  the  dance  to 
be  to-morrow  evening? — here's  the  money.'* 
'"  And  for  the  carriage,  Nelly?  "  "  Oh,  I'll  owe 
ye  for  that."  "  Ah,  thin,  Misther  Mogue,  don't 
forget  the  bit  of  a  slate  for  the  boy,  this  time, 
anyhow.  Sure  he's  losing  the  figures  for  want 
of  it  intirely."  "  Mr.  Mogue,  sir,"  whispers  a 
tall  gawky  lad,  looking  fitter  to  go  to  school  than 
think  of  "  such  things  " — "  here's  the  size  of  her 
finger,  ye  see;  try  it  on  yer  own  little  one,  will 
ye,  for  fear  ye'd  lose  the  measure?  "  "  Ah  thin, 
don't  bother  us  with  such  nonsense,  ye  grate 
bosthoon,"  was  Mogue's  reply.  "  Sure  the  kay 
of  the  door  served  your  father's  turn,  and  it 


118  IRELAND 

may  yours's."  "  The  dickens  a  kay  to  the  door 
at  all,  at  all,"  answered  the  youth ;  "  but  the 
priest  is  grown  particular  about  a  ring,  and  ye 
need't  dread  the  money,  for  here's  the  half  of  it; 
and  don't  be  hinderin'  us,  Mogue,  like  a  darlin' 
man,  and  it  so  nigh  Lent.  I'll  pay  ye  honest, 
and  if  ye  don't  take  my  word,  the  little  girl  her- 
self s  outside — and  will  go  bail — and  you  never 
misdoubted  the  word  of  one  belonging  to  her." 

Christmas,  however,  was  Mogue's  time  of  im- 
portance ;  he  had  to  please  all  the  ladies  then,  and 
not  a  few  of  the  rich  farmers'  wives — in  the  choice 
of  pudding  plums,  jar  raisins,  sweet  and  bitter 
almonds,  beef  suet,  Christmas  candles,  kitchen 
candles,  citrons,  with  a  host  of  et  ceteras.  He 
had  to  convey  presents  of  turkeys  and  eggs  from 
the  dwellers  in  the  country  to  those  in  the  town; 
and  presents  of  town  cheer  from  those  in  town 
to  friends  in  the  country. 

The  fifth  Christmas  after  Mogue  became  a 
man  of  substance  had  come  round.  It  was  a 
fine  clear  evening  when  he  repaired  to  the  dwel- 
ling of  his  friend,  the  old  gentleman,  who  had 
set  him  up  in  the  first  instance  as  a  car-driver; 
in  three  days  more  this  old  gentleman  would 
have  spent  sixty  Christmas  days  in  the  house 
where  five  generations  had  preceded  him;  and 
Mogue  Furlong  came,  once  again,  to  take  orders 
for  the  Christmas  fare.  He  had  heard  rumours 
that  the  'squire's  circumstances  were  changed  for 
the  worse,  and  in  accordance  with  that  beautiful 
Irish  feeling  which  renders  the  Irish  doubly  re- 
spectful to  the  relics  of  good  old  times,  when 


CORK  119 

"  in  trouble,"  Mogue  on  being  sent  for  to  the 
parlour  bowed  much  lower,  and  much  more  civil 
than  usual;  but  his  heart  smote  him  when  the 
gentleman's  daughter  placed  in  his  hands  a  far 
shorter  list  than  heretofore  of  the  fare  that  was 
required. 

"  There's  only  Mary  and  I  now,"  observed 
the  'squire ;  "  The  boys  are  all  away,  and  we  do 
not  want  much,  do  we,  Mary?"  Mary  smiled 
and  turned  away;  Mogue  saw  she  did  so  to  hide 
her  tears. 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  the  grocer's  wife,  "  I  must 
say,  Mogue  Furlong,  yer  the  hardest  to  plaze 
of  any  man  I  ever  see.  Why,  they're  the  same 
currants  you  let  me  put  up  for  Mrs.  Horragan." 
'  They'll  do  very  well  for  Mrs.  Horragan;  but 
there's  a  dale  in  the  differ  between  buying  for 
her  and  Miss  Mary  of  the  big  house."  "  And 
is  this  all  they've  ordered? "  said  the  woman, 
snatching  the  list  out  of  the  car-driver's  hand. 
"  Well,  if  ever  I  see  such  a  mane,  poor  order 
from  a  gentleman's  house."  "  Ye  may  keep 
yer  currants,  Mrs.  White,  ma'am,"  he  said,  hav- 
ing repossessed  himself  of  the  order.  '  Ye  may 
keep  yer  currants  as  change  for  yer  impedence, 
in  daring  to  look  at  my  papers;  and  see  what 
ye'll  do  without  my  custom.  See  that  now, 
Mrs.  White,  that's  the  price  of  your  curiosity, 
ma'am ! "  and  Mogue  walked  off  in  fierce  anger 
to  another  grocer's,  despite  the  efforts  of  Mrs. 
White  to  obtain  a  reconciliation. 

'  Well,"  she  exclaimed,  "  who  would  ever 
drame  of  his  firing  up  that  way;  and  indeed  it's 


120  IRELAND 

myself  is  sorry  to  hear  what  I  heard  about  the 
family,  they  war  good  people " 

"  And  good  customers,"  added  one  of  the  shop 
loungers. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  deny  that''  replied  Mrs. 
White ;  "  but  they  always  had  the  worth  of  their 
money." 

"  Small  blame  to  them;  ye  did  not  ax  them  to 
have  more,  Mrs.  White; "  observed  a  caustic 
blacksmith. 

"  I  shall  let  them  know  Mogue's  impudence, 
and  get  him  broke,"  she  said,  tossing  one  scale 
into  another  as  they  swung  from  the  beam,  and 
wiping  the  remnants  of  the  "  soft  sugar  "  into 
the  drawer  with  her  hand.  "  I  shall  certainly 
let  them  know  Mogue's  impudence." 

Mogue  Furlong  heard  that  day  much,  which 
made  his  heart  ache;  meeting  the  servant  of  his 
patron's  attorney  strolling  down  the  street,  he 
asked  him  "  if  his  master  had  said  any  thing 
about  he  knew  who  ?  " 

"  No;  "  the  only  thing  he  had  heard  was,  that 
if  the  old  gentleman  could  be  kept  out  of  the 
way  and  free  from  arrest  for  a  few  months, 
there  was  no  doubt  his  affairs  would  come  round ; 
"  but,"  added  the  man,  "  I  did  hear  my  master 
say  to  Mr.  Lacey,  just  when  I  stopt  to  poke  the 
fire,  '  that  he  was  too  fond  of  staying  in  the  old 
walls.'  " 

This  troubled  the  honest  car-driver  a  good 
deal;  but  he  had  much  to  think  of,  and  though 
he  made  excellent  haste — that  is,  excellent  haste 
when  the  delays  of  Irish  shopping  are  taken  into 


CORK  121 

consideration — the  Dublin  mail  had  arrived,  and 
the  evening  closed  into  night  before  he  was  ready 
to  depart. 

Mogue  had  packed  his  commissions  on  the  car 
with  exceeding  care,  and  had  just  admonished 
the  mare,  for  the  fifth  time,  that  it  was  his  desire 
she  should  forthwith  proceed  on  her  way,  when 
two  men  advanced,  and  signified  their  design  to 
travel  to  his  own  sea-side  village  that  very  night. 
Mogue  immediately  set  about  re-arranging  his 
packages,  and  balanced  his  passengers  accord- 
ing to  the  usual  mode,  one  at  each  side ;  they  were 
evidently  strangers  to  the  neighbourhood,  and, 
as  Mogue  opined,  any  thing  but  "  the  rale 
gentry,  for  they  never  left  a  farthing  with  the 
beggars."  Before  they  had  proceeded  half  a 
mile,  they  commenced  questioning  the  car-driver ; 
and  he  was  nothing  loth  to  reply  to  their  inter- 
rogatories according  to  the  most  approved  Irish 
fashion — by  himself  becoming  a  questioner.  He 
observed,  however,  that  they  were  remarkably 
guarded  in  their  replies;  but  suddenly,  contrary 
to  his  usual  practice,  Mogue  himself  became  com- 
municative, and  found  that  his  information  was 
received  with  avidity.  They  asked  a  few  lead- 
ing questions  touching  the  habits  of  his  patron, 
the  old  'squire,  of  whom  the  car-driver  spoke  in 
any  thing  but  a  kind  or  respectful  manner;  and 
so  they  jogged  on  together  until  they  came  to 
a  certain  cross-road,  where  Mogue's  mare  wanted 
to  get  the  reins  between  her  teeth  and  go  one 
way,  while  her  master  was  even  more  obstinate 
in  his  resolve  that  she  should  go  another.  At 


122  IRELAND 

last,  by  the  dint  of  blows  and  abuse,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  compelling  her  to  take  the  mountain 
road;  though  she  every  moment  signified  her 
determination  to  have  her  own  way,  if  possible, 
by  backing  into  the  ditch,  or  turning  her  head 
towards  the  place  she  had  left. 

"  One  would  think  your  horse  ought  to  know 
the  road  home,"  said  one  of  the  men. 

"  Know  it !  "  repeated  Mogue,  "  why  it's  she 
that  does;  only,  poor  thing,  it's  her  nature  ye 
see  (go  on,  do,  or  I'll  make  ye,  ye  baste) — her 
foal  that's  at  my  brother's,  a  piece  down  that 
boreen — I  brought  her  from  it  this  morning, 
leaving  my  other  horse  there,  just  for  a  change 
of  grass,  which  is  very  wholesome  this  time  of 
year." 

In  this  little  account  Mogue  Furlong  perpe- 
trated three  falsehoods;  "the  mare"  never  had 
a  foal,  he,  himself,  never  had  a  brother,  and  as 
to  his  having  a  second  horse 1 

Leaving  Mogue  to  pursue  his  journey,  we 
must  relate  what  occurred  at  the  'squire's. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Mary  to  her  father,  "  what 
can  possibly  have  delayed  Mogue  Furlong;  it 
is  now  half -past  ten;  they  say  in  the  kitchen 
Ihey  never  remember  him  to  have  been  so  late 
since  the  last  heavy  fall  of  snow." 

The  old  gentleman,  who  had  been  walking  up 
and  down  the  room,  with  a  restless  step,  paused. 
"  I  wish  he  was  come,  my  dear — I  wish  he  was ;  " 
and  then  he  sighed  heavily,  and  resumed  his  walk. 

"  If  you  plaze,  Miss,"  said  the  cook,  poking 
in  her  head,  while  she  held  the  knob  of  the  door 


CORK  123 

in  the  folds  of  her  apron,  "  we've  no  kitchen 
candles,  and  the  groom  says  he  darn't  go  to  the 
stable  'till  Mogue  comes  home,  on  account  of 
the  lanthorn  that  he  took  to  get  mended;  and 
it's  what  I  wanted  to  know,  what  is  to  be  done 
about  the  suet,  for  'till  Mogue  comes " 

"  Let  me  hear  no  more  of  Mogue,"  interrupted 
the  'squire  in  anger — the  quick,  sudden  anger, 
not  of  an  evil  temper,  but  of  a  mind  ill  at  ease — 
"  let  me  hear  no  more  of  him — I  suppose  the 
fellow  is  drunk.  I  shall  have  no  letters  to-night. 
Come,  Mary,  it  is  time  to  go  to  bed." 

Mary  could  not  rest;  but  if  the  gentle  girl 
had  been  inclined  to  retire  to  her  own  room, 
the  heavy  tramp  of  her  father's  footstep  over- 
head would  have  banished  repose;  the  apartment 
had  once  been  handsomely  furnished;  now  all 
looked  chill  and  lonely,  and  the  snuff  of  a  candle 
that  was  dying  in  the  socket  only  rendered  more 
intense  the  darkness  that  cloaked  the  distant 
parts.  Suddenly  the  bough  of  an  aged  oak, 
which  grew  almost  against  the  window,  became 
violently  agitated,  and  at  the  same  instant  she 
saw  a  man  look  into  the  room.  Her  first  impulse 
was  to  scream,  but  she  checked  herself  and  rushed 
to  the  door.  "  Miss  Mary — Miss  Mary — stop 
— stop — sure  it's  Mogue,  avourneen,  Miss, 
machree."  And  the  voice  was  very  distinctly 
heard  through  the  crack  in  a  board  which  had 
replaced  a  broken  pane.  Mary  opened  the  win- 
dow. '  There's  a  dim  light  in  the  masther's 
room,  and  that's  his  step  all  the  world  over," 
said  Mogue,  after  shaking  the  sleet  of  a  De- 


124  IRELAND 

cember  night  off  his  rugged  coat;  "I've  had  a 
troublesome  time  of  it,  but  it's  all  safe  now ! " 
he  continued,  "  at  least  for  the  present.  Bedad, 
I've  netted  'em  as  nate  as  ever  a  rabbit  was 
netted  in  its  own  burrow;  and  yet  I'd  rather  the 
master  would  quit  for  a  while,  for  there's  more 
of  the  same  varmint  where  them  came  from — 
and  if  you'll  only  trust  me,  I'd  get  the  gig  ready 
in  a  jiffy,  and  drive  his  honour  to  London,  or 
the  world's  end — and  it's  a  long  lane  that  has 
no  turning.  I  came  on  the  sly,  for  there's  no 
knowing  who's  who.  Do,  Miss  Mary,  just  show 
the  masther  the  rights  of  it,  and  tell  him  that 
Mogue  Furlong  the  car-driver  has  a  grateful 
heart  in  his  bosom.  Sure  what  would  I  be  now 
— only  a  spalpeen  like  the  rest  of  the  boys — 
only  for  him.  Tell  him  I'll  go  to  Death's  door 
for  him  on  the  jaunting-car  and  bring  him  back. 
Sure  it's  his  own  car;  and  the  mare,  bad  cess  to 
her,  had  almost  sould  the  pass  on  me — but  for 
the  management.  Go,  alana,  for  every  minute 
is  goold  to  us  now." 

Mary  would  not  go  until  she  knew  what  she 
had  to  tell;  which  simply  was  that  Mogue  had 
ascertained  his  fellow-travellers  to  be  sheriff's 
officers  armed  with  the  law  either  to  take  the  old 
'squire  or  put  execution  into  the  house,  as  he 
said,  to  "  blow  it  up ;  "  that  being  certain  of  this 
by  their  offering  him  a  bribe  to  let  them  "  step 
in  with  him  "  when  discharging  his  cargo,  and 
also  finding  that  they  were  ignorant  of  the  road, 
he  took  them  "  fair  and  aisy  "  to  a  cousin  of  his 
own  where  he  persuaded  them  to  alight — the 


CORK  125 

night  was  so  cold,  just  to  get  a  drop  to  keep  the 
life  in  them.  Having  succeeded  so  far,  there 
was  little  difficulty,  when  their  object  and  occu- 
pation was  known,  in  prevailing  on  "  the  boys," 
then  in  the  shebeen  house,  to  forcibly  bind  them 
hand  and  foot  and  keep  them  there  for  as  many 
hours  as  Mogue  should  command  them  so  to  do. 

;<  The  never  such  divarshion  was  in  my  cousin's 
house,"  said  the  car-man,  "  since  as  good  as  five 
years  ago,  when  the  same  boys  made  James 
Logan  the  gauger  dance  the  sailor's  hornpipe  on 
a  hot  griddle.  They  war  making  'em  drink  the 
downfal  of  the  law  on  the  flat  of  their  backs, 
when  I  left  'em,  and  feeding  'em  with  a  spoon 
like  fighting  cocks.  Faix,  I  was  glad  to  see  the 
poor  fellows  so  full  of  innocent  mirth  of  a 
Christemas  eye ! " 

The  'squire  took  the  hint,  and  left  for  a  time 
the  old  walls;  but  only  to  return  to  them  for 
the  rest  of  his  days  with  a  small  real,  instead  of 
a  large  nominal  income.  The  sheriff's  officers 
talked  of  actions  for  false  imprisonment,  but 
they  did  not  put  the  threat  into  execution;  and 
the  grateful  car-man  has  now  really  two  horses, 
and  is  the  most  welcome  of  all  guests  in  the  old 
'squire's  hall. 

We  have  described  the  principal  objects  of  at- 
traction on  the  southern  bank  of  the  river;  those 
to  the  north  are,  however,  of  equal  interest  and 
beauty,  and  among  the  most  conspicuous  is  the 
pretty  village  of  Glanmire,  with  its  small  but 
clear  and  graceful  river — thickly  wooded — one 


126  IRELAND 

of  the  latest  tributaries  which  the  Lee  receives. 
On  the  north  side  of  the  great  island  on  which 
Cove  stands,  and  on  the  direct  road  from  Cork 
to  Youghall,  are  the  small  towns  of  Middleton 
and  Castlemartyr;  the  former  from  its  facilities 
for  water-carriage  enjoys  considerable  trade;  the 
latter  has  the  advantage  of  a  resident  proprietor 
— the  Earl  of  Shannon,  whose  seat  is  in  the  im- 
mediate neighbourhood.  Youghall  has  long  oc- 
cupied a  prominent  station  in  Irish  history.28 
It  is  situated  at  the  mouth  of  the  romantic  river 
Blackwater;  but  the  fine  and  picturesque  har- 
bour has  the  disadvantage  of  a  bar,  by  which  it 
is  rendered  often  dangerous,  and  which  effectu- 
ally prevents  competition  with  its  safer  neigh- 
bour of  Cork.  The  town  is  at  the  base  of  a  steep 
hill ;  and,  as  with  most  of  the  smaller  Irish  towns, 
consists  principally  of  one  long  street.  The 
tower  stands  near  the  entrance  to  the  harbour; 
tradition  states  it  to  have  been  a  light-house  in 
ancient  times;  and  it  is  more  than  probable  that 
to  this  object  M.  Boullaye  le  Gouz  (whose  tour 
in  Ireland,  in  1644,  has  been  lately  republished) 
refers  as  "  formerly  part  of  a  convent  of  nuns 
of  which  there  remains  a  tower  called  the  Nun- 
nery, upon  which  they  used  to  light  torches  to 
enable  vessels  to  come  into  harbour  during  the 
night."  About  the  same  period  Sir  William 
Penn  mentions  his  having  received  a  letter  from 
the  governor  of  Youghall,  desiring  him  to  take 
notice  that  when  the  town  wanted  to  communi- 
cate with  his  squadron,  "  the  signal  should  be 
a  fire  on  the  top  of  the  abbey  tower,  near  the 


CORK  127 

point  on  the  west  side  of  the  harbour's  mouth." 
Close  to  this  tower  is  a  piece  of  land  in  which  it 
is  said  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  planted  the  first  po- 
tatoes that  were  grown  in  Ireland;  the  honour, 
however,  is  disputed  by  the  garden  which  ad- 
joins the  college  house  in  which  he  lived. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  first  potatoes 
grown  in  the  British  empire  were  planted  at 
Youghall — probably  in  1586 — by  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh,  who  was  closely  connected  with  the 
town,  of  which  he  was  mayor  in  1588.29  It  is 
stated  by  Dr.  Smith,  upon  the  authority  of  a 
tradition  not  unlikely  to  be  well  founded,  that 
"  the  person  who  planted  them,  imagining  that 
the  apple  which  grows  on  the  stalk  was  the  part  to 
be  used,  gathered  them ;  but  not  liking  their  taste, 
neglected  their  roots,  till  the  ground  being  dug 
afterwards  to  sow  some  other  grain,  the  potatoes 
were  discovered  therein,  and,  to  the  great  sur- 
prise of  the  planter,  vastly  increased.  From 
these  few,"  adds  the  doctor,  "  this  country  was 
furnished  with  seed."  For  a  long  period,  how- 
ever, the  potato  was  cultivated  in  gardens  as  a 
rarity,  and  did  not  become  general  food.  Ben 
Jonson,  in  his  play  of  "  Every  Man  out  of  his 
Humour,"  refers  to  them  as  a  luxury,30  "  larks, 
sparrows,  and  potato  pies," — and  during  the 
reign  of  James  I.,  they  were  sold  at  2s.  a  pound. 
Falstaff,  in  the  "  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  is 
made  to  say,  "  Let  the  sky  rain  potatoes,  and  hail 
kissing  comfits ;  " — the  "  kissing  comfits  "  being 
made  principally  of  potatoes ;  and  in  Troilus  and 
Cressida,  the  poet  speaks  of  "  Luxury  with  her 


128  IRELAND 

potato  finger."  In  many  other  of  the  older 
dramatists  allusions  to  the  potato  may  be  found.31 

It  is  uncertain  when  the  potato  became  an 
article  of  general  food  in  Ireland;  and  it  is  more 
than  probable  that,  as  in  England,  they  had  long 
been  considered  "  conserves,  toothsome  and 
daintie,"  before  they  were  in  common  use.  Mr. 
Me  Skimin,  the  author  of  a  valuable  "  History 
of  Carrickfergus,"  is  the  possessor  of  a  manu- 
script written  between  1670  and  1679,  in  which 
potatoes  are  stated  to  have  been  sold  so  high  as 
Is.  Sd.  a  bushel;  and  he  states  "  very  old  people 
had  informed  him  that  in  their  district  (the  north 
of  Ireland)  few  potatoes  were  formerly  used 
after  harvest,  except  a  small  quantity  preserved 
as  a  treat  for  their  Halloween  supper,  which 
were  eaten  with  butter."  But  Mr.  Crofton 
Croker  has  produced,  in  his  "  Popular  Songs  of 
Ireland,"  abundant  proofs  that,  in  the  south, 
potatoes  were  ordinary  food  before  the  period 
to  which  Mr.  Me  Skimin  refers ;  and  that  pre- 
vious to  the  Revolution  of  1688  they  were  ex- 
tensively cultivated  and  commonly  eaten. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  state,  that  for  above  a  cen- 
tury and  a  half,  the  potato  has  been  almost  the 
only  food  of  the  peasantry  of  Ireland.  They  raise 
corn,  indeed — wheat,  barley,  and  oats,  in  abun- 
dance— but  it  is  for  export;  and  although  the 
assertion  may  startle  many,  we  have  no  hesita- 
tion in  saying  there  are  hundreds  in  the  less  civi- 
lized districts  of  the  country  who  have  never 
tasted  bread.  Whether  the  Irish  have  to  bless 
or  ban  the  name  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  is  a  mat- 


CORK  129 

ter  still  in  dispute — some  siding  with  Cobbett 
in  execrating  "  the  lazy  root,"  "  the  accursed 
root,"  as,  if  not  the  originator,  the  sustainer  of 
Irish  poverty  and  wretchedness ;  others  contend- 
ing that  the  introduction  of  the  potato  is  an 
ample  set-off  against  the  wars  and  confiscations 
of  Elizabeth,  her  counsellors,  and  her  armies. 
It  is  universally  admitted  that  a  finer  or  hardier 
race  of  peasantry  cannot  be  found  in  the  world; 
and  although  it  is  considered  that  their  strength 
fails  them  at  a  comparatively  early  age,  it  is 
impossible  to  deny  the  nutritive  qualities  of  a 
food  upon  which  so  many  millions  have  thriven 
and  increased.  But  there  can  be  as  little  doubt 
that  the  ease  with  which  the  means  of  existence 
are  procured  has  been  the  cause  of  evil.  A  very 
limited  portion  of  land,  a  few  days  of  labour, 
and  a  small  amount  of  manure,  will  create  a 
stock  upon  which  a  family  may  exist  for  twelve 
months:  too  generally,  indeed,  the  periods  be- 
tween exhausting  the  old  stock  and  digging  the 
new  are  seasons  of  great  want,  if  not  of  absolute 
famine;  but  if  the  season  is  propitious  the  peas- 
ant digs  day  after  day  the  produce  of  his  plot 
of  ground,  and,  before  the  winter  sets  in,  places 
the  residue  in  a  pit  to  which  he  has  access  when 
his  wants  demand  a  supply.  Nearly  every  soil 
will  produce  potatoes ;  they  may  be  seen  growing 
almost  from  a  barren  rock,  on  the  side  of  a 
mountain,  and  in  the  bog  where  the  foot  would 
sink  many  inches  in  the  soil.  Every  cottage  has 
its  garden — its  acre  or  half  acre  of  land,  at- 
tached; and  as  the  culture  requires  but  a  very 
v— 9 


130  IRELAND 

small  portion  of  the  peasant's  time  and  still  less 
of  his  attention,  his  labour  is  to  be  disposed  of, 
or  his  time  may  be  squandered  in  idleness.  He 
can  live,  at  all  events — if  his  crop  do  not  fail; 
and  he  can  pay  his  rent  if  his  pig,  fed  like  him- 
self out  of  his  garden,  do  not  die.  To  decency 
of  clothing,  and  to  any  of  the  luxuries  that  make 
life  something  more  than  mere  animal  existence, 
he  is  too  often  a  stranger.  Contentment  may 
be  the  "  parent  of  delight,"  but  it  is  not  the 
nurse  of  civilization;  and  he  who  has  no  wants 
beyond  those  of  the  appetites  he  shares  in  com- 
mon with  the  "  brutes  that  perish,"  is  not  likely 
to  advance  his  social  and  moral  condition.  On 
the  whole,  it  is  perhaps  to  be  lamented  that  the 
use  of  "  Ireland's  root "  has  been  so  universal  in 
the  country,  and  that  the  people  have  been  so 
well  contented  with  it  that  they  have  made  no 
exertion  to  mix  the  potato  with  varied  food. 

But  matters  are,  as  we  have  stated,  improving 
in  Ireland;  already,  in  a  large  proportion  of 
the  cabins,  the  potato  has  the  accompaniment  of 
meat  and  bread;  the  butcher  and  the  baker  are 
receiving  the  custom  that  was,  not  long  since, 
given  exclusively  to  the  whiskey  shops.  We 
refer,  in  a  great  degree,  to  our  recollections,  when 
we  describe  the  lower  classes  of  the  Irish  as  ex- 
isting, almost  universally,  on  the  potato :  we  have 
known  many  families  who  very  rarely  tasted 
flesh  or  fish,  and  whose  only  luxury  was  "  a  grain 
of  salt "  with  their  daily  meals;  we  do  not  speak 
of  families  in  poverty,  but  of  those  who  laboured 
hard  and  continually — the  produce  of  whose  la- 


LAT 


CORK  131 

hour  barely  sufficed  to  preserve  them  from  utter 
want.  Generally,  however,  they  contrived  to  have 
a  salt  herring  with  their  dinners ;  this  was  placed 
in  a  bowl  or  dish,  water  was  poured  upon  it,  and 
the  potato,  dipped  into  it,  obtained  a  relish.  We 
shall  have  other  occasions  for  describing  the  econ- 
omy of  the  Irish  cottage;  at  present,  we  confine 
ourselves  to  illustrate  this  branch  of  it.  The 
peasant  usually  has  three  meals — one  at  eight  in 
the  morning;  at  noon;  and  at  seven  or  eight  in 
the  evening,  when  his  work  is  done.  The  pota- 
toes are  boiled  in  an  iron  pot — such  as  that  rep- 
resented in  the  print — they  are  strained  in  "  the 
basket  " — pictured  also  (See  Plate  No.  3) ;  from 
which  they  are  thrown  upon  the  table,  seldom 
without  a  cloth,  and  around  it  the  family  sit  on 
stools  and  bosses  (the  boss  is  a  low  seat  made  of 
straw) ;  the  usual  drink  is  buttermilk,  when  it  can 
be  had:  which  drink  goes  round  in  a  small 
"  piggm»"  a  sort  °f  miniature  of  the  English  pail. 
This,  the  three-legged  stool  and  the  "  borrane,'* 
are  delineated  in  the  engraving.  ( See  Plate  No. 
3.)  The  borrane  is  formed  of  a  scraped  sheep- 
skin, drawn  round  a  hoop ;  and  is  used  instead  of 
a  sieve  for  winnowing  corn,  filling  sacks  with 
grain,  holding  wool  when  carded  and  ready  for 
the  spinning-wheel,  or  the  feathers — plucked 
three  times  in  the  year  from  an  unfortunate  gan- 
der and  his  wives,  and  sometimes  as  a  lordly  dish 
— though  of  inexpensive  workmanship — to  hold 
the  potatoes  which  constitute  the  family  fare. 

The  spade  used  by  the  labourers  in  Leinster  is 
a  kind  of  hybrid  between  the  broad  English  spade 


132  IRELAND 

and  the  "loy"  used  in  Connaught,  and  well 
suited  to  the  purpose  of  digging  soils  which  are 
not  encumbered  with  stones;  it  is  sufficiently 
broad  to  turn  over  a  considerable  portion  of 
earth,  and  yet  long  enough  to  penetrate  twelve 
inches;  and  being  contracted  to  the  breadth  of 
about  six  inches  at  bottom,  it  has  enough  of  the 
wedge  principle  in  its  construction  to  enter  into 
the  land  without  difficulty.  The  long,  narrow 
spade,  originally  designed  for  digging  land  full 
of  obstructions,  is  the  favourite  implement  in 
Connaught;  and  also,  but  somewhat  wider  in  its 
formation,  in  the  southern  portions  of  Munster. 
Much  improvement,  however,  has  been  effected 
in  its  construction  almost  everywhere.  A  long 
handle  to  the  spade  and  the  shovel  is  universally 
used  in  field  labours;  a  native  workman,  from 
want  of  early  familiarity  with  the  peculiar  sleight 
required  in  the  use  of  the  short-handled  spade, 
which  implement  the  Englishman  finds  so  much 
more  effective,  fails  very  soon  when  he  tries  to 
labour  with  it;  his  back  becomes  intolerably  af- 
fected by  the  necessary  stooping;  he  throws  it 
away  as  soon  as  he  can,  resumes  his  naturally 
upright  position,  and  is  ready  to  back  the  long 
lever  against  the  short  one — without  understand- 
ing the  mathematical  principle  very  distinctly — 
for  a  day's  wages.  Experience  shows  us  that 
the  practised  Englishman  with  his  spade  will  dig 
up  a  larger  area  of  land  in  any  given  time  than 
an  Irishman,  or  fill  a  cart  with  earth  or  coals,  by 
means  of  his  short-handled  shovel,  in  a  much  less 
period;  yet  the  Irish  labourer — unless  he  comes 


CORK  133 

to  work  in  England — cannot  be  prevailed  upon 
to  make  any  continued  effort  in  the  use  of  the 
latter  implement. 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  connexion  with  Ireland, 
and  more  especially  with  Youghall,  may  be  stated 
briefly.  He  went  over  to  Ireland  as  a  mere  sol- 
dier of  fortune,  in  1579,  the  captain  of  a  levy  of 
troops  sent  from  England  to  support  the  Lord 
Deputy,  Grey  de  Wilton,  in  subduing  the  rebel- 
lious Earl  of  Desmond.32  Raleigh's  skill  and 
intrepidity  attracted  notice,  and  his  promotion 
was  rapid :  he  was  rewarded  with  a  grant  of  land, 
part  of  the  forfeited  estates  of  the  earl  in  the 
counties  of  Cork  and  Waterford;  the  grant  be- 
ing confirmed  to  him  by  letters  patent,  dated  the 
16th  Oct.  1586.  About  this  period,  and  for  some 
years  afterwards,  he  resided  at  Youghall,  and  oc- 
casionally at  Lismore,  where  he  founded  a  free- 
school  ;  and  frequently  visited  the  poet  Spenser — 
at  Kilcoleman  Castle — whose  friendship  with  the 
"  shepherd  of  the  ocean  "  Spenser  commemorated 
in  immortal  lines.33  A  quiet  life  was,  however, 
unsuited  to  the  temperament  of  Raleigh;  and  in 
1602  he  disposed  of  his  Irish  property  to  the 
famous  Sir  Richard  Boyle,  afterwards  Earl  of 
Cork — the  deed  of  sale  is  dated  the  7th  December, 
1602.  But  there  is  more  than  suspicion  that  Sir 
Richard  took  advantage  of  circumstances,  to  in- 
duce Raleigh  to  part  with  his  estate,  which  now 
forms  the  bulk  of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire's  prop- 
erty in  Ireland,  for  a  sum  very  far  below  its 
value,  even  at  the  period — about  <£l,500 ;  although 
it  seems  that  Sir  Walter  subsequently  received 


134  IRELAND 

other  sums  from  Lord  Cork — upon  what  ground 
does  not  satisfactorily  appear.  In  a  letter  writ- 
ten by  the  Earl  of  Cork  to  Mr.  Carew  Raleigh, 
Sir  Walter's  son,  dated  January  16,  1631,  his 
lordship  defends  himself  against  the  charge  of 
having  overreached  in  the  bargain;  alleging  that 
he  had  paid  Sir  Walter  the  full  value  of  what  he 
owed  him  for  his  estate,  which  he  purchased  at 
a  time  when  it  was  utterly  waste  and  yielded  him 
no  profit ;  and  affirming  that  Sir  Walter  had  ex- 
pressed himself  satisfied  in  the  presence  of  many 
witnesses,  saying,  "If  he  (Sir  Richard  Boyle) 
had  not  bought  my  Irish  land  it  would  have  fallen 
to  the  crown,  and  then  one  Scot  or  other  would 
have  begged  it."  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  sailed 
from  Cork  harbour  on  his  last  and  fatal  voyage, 
on  the  6th  of  August,  1617.  The  descendants 
of  the  Earl  of  Cork  still  enjoy  the  greater  por- 
tion of  the  estates  that  once  belonged  to  "  the  re- 
nowned knight."  34  The  history  of  the  earl,  if 
his  "  True  Remembrances  "  can  be  credited,  is 
one  of  the  most  singular  upon  record :  he  was  bred 
to  the  law ;  but  rinding  that  "  his  employment 
would  not  raise  a  fortune,"  he  became  an  adven- 
turer in  Ireland,  during  the  confusion  incident  to 
the  Desmond  rebellion,  landing  in  Dublin,  ac- 
cording to  his  own  statement,  on  the  23d  of  June, 
1583,  "  with  .£27  3s.  in  money,  and  two  tokens 
which  his  mother  had  given  him,"  a  limited  supply 
of  clothes,  and  "  a  rapier  and  a  dagger."  He  ob- 
tained a  large  share  of  the  spoil  divided  among  all 
who  thought  it  worth  the  asking,  and  lived  to  see 
three  of  his  sons  ennobled — the  Lords  Dungarvan 


CORK  135 

(afterwards  Earl  of  Burlington),  Broghill  (af- 
terwards Earl  of  Orrery),  and  Kinalmeaky. 
After  his  father's  death,  Francis  Boyle  was  en- 
nobled by  Charles  II.  as  Viscount  Shannon;  and 
Robert  Boyle,  the  philosopher,  now  distinguished 
by  the  epithet  "  illustrious,"  refused  a  peerage. 
The  sisters  of  these  noblemen  married  the  Earl 
of  B  anymore,  Lord  Digby,  Lord  Goring,  Vis- 
count Ranelagh,  Sir  Adam  Loftus,  and  the  Earl 
of  Warwick :  all  distinguished  characters  in  their 
time. 

The  house  in  which  Raleigh  lived  is  still  stand- 
ing close  to  the  church  and  the  ancient  wall  of  the 
town.  It  is,  at  present,  in  the  occupation  of 
Colonel  Fount,  who  carefully  preserves  from  in- 
jury all  the  objects  that  are  associated  with  the 
memory  of  the  accomplished  and  unfortunate 
knight.35  It  has,  however,  undergone  modern 
"  improvements  " — the  character  of  which  was 
happily  described  by  an  aged  gardener  with  whom 
we  conversed :  "  Ah,  sir !  this  was  an  ould  ancient 
place — once."  The  house  is  said  to  have  been 
originally  the  residence  of  the  wardens  of  the  col- 
legiate church;  but  was  probably  altered  to  its 
present  character — which  closely  appertains  to 
that  of  the  ordinary  English  manor-house  of  the 
sixteenth  century — either  by  Sir  George  Carew 
or  by  Sir  Richard  Boyle,  both  of  whom  resided 
there.  The  walls  are  of  considerable  thickness, 
and  the  whole  of  the  interior  is  wainscotted  with 
Irish  oak;  the  panels  in  the  principal  room  are 
black  as  ebony;  and  it  contains  a  chimney-piece, 
of  oak  also,  reaching  from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling, 


136  IRELAND 

of  very  elaborate  workmanship ;  but  the  bad  taste 
of  former  proprietors  has  defaced  the  other  cham- 
bers of  the  suite  by  a  coating  of  green  paint.  In 
the  garden  there  is  a  group  of  four  aged  yew- 
trees,  which  tradition  states  to  have  been  planted 
by  Raleigh;  and  where  it  requires  no  stretch  of 
fancy,  at  least,  to  believe  that  he  has  many  a  time 
sat,  read,  and  talked,  or  lolled  in  the  summer  time, 
dreaming  of  that  El  Dorado,  in  the  vain  search 
for  which  he  sacrificed  his  fortune  and  ultimately 
his  life.  Their  tops  are  closely  matted. 

In  this  spot,  beyond  question,  has  been  often 
read  portions  of  the  Fairy  Queen,  long  before  the 
world  became  familiar  with  the  divine  concep- 
tion— 

"  At  whose  approach  the  soul  of  Petrarch  wept." 

For  here,  certainly,  the  immortal  bard  held  com- 
mune with  his  "  deare  friend  "  and  brother  poet, 
whom  he  described  as  "  the  summer  nightin- 
gale  "- 

"  Himselfe  as  skilful  in  that  art  as  any." 

Here,  too,  doubtless,  were  composed  some  of 
those  exquisite  works  which  must  have  been  the 
produce  of  ease  and  quiet,  and  have  preserved 
the  name  of  Raleigh  for  the  honour  of  posterity. 
He  is  conspicuous  in  history  as  "  the  noble  and 
valourous  knight " — a  man  of  astonishing  en- 
ergy, who  combined  almost  every  variety  of  tal- 
ent; whose  acquirements  in  science  were  marvel- 
lous; whose  heroic  courage  and  indomitable  per- 
severance are  almost  without  parallel;  whose 


CORK  137 

enterprise  was  unchecked  by  difficulties  and  un- 
chilled  by  failure;  and  who,  while  excelling  in 
feats  of  arms  and  strength  of  council,  surpassed 
also  in  those  arts  which  are  the  more  exclusive 
produce  of  retirement  and  peace — history,  ora- 
tory, philosophy,  politics,  and  poetry.  It  is 
impossible  to  visit  this  spot,  in  which  his  compara- 
tively few  days  of  tranquillity  were  spent,  with- 
out a  sigh  for  his  unhappy  fate.  Historians  have 
recorded  some  striking  anecdotes  of  his  bravery 
and  gallantry  while  in  Ireland.36 

The  Collegiate  Church  of  Youghall  is  one  of 
the  most  interesting  churches  in  the  kingdom. 
Part  of  it  is  still  used  for  service ;  but  a  large  por- 
tion is  a  ruin;  and,  we  fear,  one  of  those  which 
neglect  is  consigning  to  utter  destruction.37  The 
east  window  is  considered  especially  beautiful ;  al- 
though its  effect  is  considerably  impaired  by  be- 
ing partially  built  up.  It  is  divided  into  two 
distinct  compartments,  each  consisting  of  two 
slight  mullions,  surmounted  by  open  circular 
tracery,  and  terminating  in  a  trefoil  ornament. 
These  compartments  become  one  window  by  the 
outside  line  of  their  arches  uniting  in  a  common 
point  over  the  double  massive  mulHon,  thus  made 
the  centre,  and  the  intervening  space  is  filled  up 
by  a  Catherine  wheel.  The  nave  is  now  used  as 
the  parish  church ;  it  has  six  pointed  arches,  sup- 
ported by  pilasters,  with  two  transepts  and  two 
side  aisles.  In  the  south  transept  "  the  great 
Earl "  of  Cork  is  buried,  beneath  a  monument 
that  was  erected  by  him  during  his  lifetime;  he 
is  represented  in  armour  in  a  recumbent  posture ; 


138  IRELAND 

on  each  side  is  a  female  figure  kneeling  (his  two 
wives),  and  underneath  are  figures  of  his  nine 
children,  with  the  dates  of  their  several  births. 
The  church  is  full  of  curious  and  remarkable 
monuments;  among  which  those  of  the  Boyles 
and  the  Fitzgeralds  are  the  most  conspicuous. 
We  have  copied  one  (See  Plate  No.  3) — a  sepul- 
chral niche  in  the  north  wall,  carved,  and  richly 
adorned  with  trefoil  ornaments,  and  containing 
the  following  inscription : 

ttfc  Jacet 

abomas 

if  leminfl. 

Adjoining  the  church,  and  indeed  forming  a  part 
of  the  structure,  is  a  large  square  tower,  now 
used  as  a  belfry,  but  evidently  a  work  originally 
built  for  defence.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  ob- 
serve that  Youghall,  having  been  one  of  the 
strongholds  of  the  Geraldines,  was  the  scene  of 
many  struggles  for  power;  from  time  to  time  it 
was  attacked,  defended,  and  taken,  the  inhabi- 
tants being  driven  out,  in  accordance  with  the 
policy  of  the  victors.  On  the  29th  of  May, 
1650,  Oliver  Cromwell  embarked  at  Youghall 
for  England,  after  his  extraordinary  conquest  of 
Ireland. 

Notwithstanding  its  proximity  to  Cork,  Youg- 
hall enjoys  a  flourishing  trade:  a  narrow  bridge 
of  great  length  crosses  the  Blackwater,  and  unites 
the  town  with  the  county  of  Waterf ord. 

Having  detained  our  readers  so  long  at  Youg- 
hall, we  must  conduct  them  somewhat  more  rap- 


CORK  139 

idly  through  the  various  towns  in  the  north  of 
the  county  of  Cork.  These  are  Fermoy  and 
Mallow,  on  the  river  Blackwater — the  exceeding 
beauty  of  this  river  we  shall  endeavour  to  describe 
in  treating  of  the  county  of  Waterford — Castle- 
town-Roche,  Buttevant,  Doneraile,  Kilworth, 
Glanworth,  Newmarket,  and  Kanturk;  still  fur- 
ther north  Mitchelstown,  on  the  borders  of  the 
county  of  Tipperary,  and  Charleville,  on  the 
borders  of  the  county  of  Limerick.38  Fermoy, 
an  obscure  and  insignificant  village  when  Smith 
wrote  his  history  of  Cork,  nearly  a  hundred  years 
since,  became  an  important  town  early  in  the 
present  century  in  consequence  of  the  exertions 
of  Mr.  Anderson,  who  had  extensive  barrack  and 
mail-coach  contracts  with  Government:  his  spec- 
ulations were  ultimately  unsuccessful;  and  with 
the  prosperity  of  its  founder  that  of  Fermoy  in 
some  measure  declined.  Its  extensive  barracks, 
however,  and  its  vicinity  to  the  Cove  of  Cork, 
make  Fermoy  an  important  military  station. 
Mallow  has  been  styled  the  Bath  of  Ireland;  it 
is  a  pretty  and  agreeable  town;  its  Spa  has  long 
been  celebrated;  and  it  is  much  frequented  by 
invalid  visitors.  On  the  banks  of  the  Black- 
water,  and  midway  between  the  towns  of  Mallow 
and  Fermoy,  is  the  ruin  of  the  ancient  abbey  of 
Bridgetown,  which  contains  several  monuments 
of  the  once  powerful  family  of  Roche.  About  a 
mile  distant  from  the  abbey  is  Castletown- 
Roche.  The  Roches  were  barons  of  parliament 
so  early  as  the  reign  of  Edward  II.;  and, 
though  "  fallen  upon  evil  days,"  the  name  is 


140  IRELAND 

still  honourably  conspicuous  in  the  counties  of 
Cork  and  Limerick. 

By  the  Commonwealth  supremacy,  Maurice, 
Viscount  Roche  and  Fermoy,  was  attainted  and 
outlawed;  his  estates,  being  of  course  forfeited, 
were  parcelled  among  the  soldiery  of  Oliver 
Cromwell,  whose  offer  of  "  a  composition  "  the 
loyal  exile  had  refused.  Subsequently,  he  ob- 
tained a  regiment  in  Flanders,  and  suffered  pov- 
erty in  order  that  he  might  be  enabled  to  share 
his  pay  with  his  king,  Charles  II.  Eventually, 
Lord  Roche  was  obliged  to  dispose  of  his  com- 
mission on  account  of  his  debts ;  and,  at  the  Res- 
toration, was  naturally  cheered  by  the  prospect 
of  regaining,  with  his  honours,  the  property  of 
which  he  had  been  deprived.  Charles  did  not 
find  it  convenient,  however,  to  recollect  the  lib- 
eral friend  of  his  adversity;  and  Lord  Roche 
would  have  perished  of  want  but  for  the  charity 
of  the  Duke  of  Ormond.  The  ingratitude  of 
Charles  II.  to  his  Irish  adherents,  and  the  de- 
scendants of  those  who  had  died  fighting  against 
the  usurper,  is  among  the  darkest  blots  of  his 
reign.  Many  of  them  had — as  in  the  case  of 
Lord  Roche — endured  not  only  privations  but 
want,  to  support  his  cause ;  and  when  he  had  the 
means  of  rewarding  them — and  of  restoring  to 
them  their  forfeited  lands — he  treated  them  with 
indifference  or  levity.39  The  melancholy  con- 
clusion of  the  history  of  Lord  Roche's  forfeiture 
we  may  illustrate  by  two  anecdotes,  for  the  truth 
of  which  we  can  vouch. — A  Lady  Roche  was  per- 
fectly remembered  by  two  or  three  old  persons, 


CORK  141 

who  have  described  her  to  us  as  begging  charity 
through  the  streets  of  Cork  in  a  tattered  and 
faded  court-dress.  She  was  then  upwards  of 
seventy;  and  was  probably  the  lady  whom  Arch- 
bishop Boulter  recommended,  by  his  letter  of  the 
22d  June,  1731,  to  the  Duke  of  Dorset,  as  de- 
serving a  pension.  Of  the  degraded  state  of  the 
last  Lord  Roche,  we  have  been  told  that  a  gentle- 
man travelling  on  horseback,  in  the  early  part  of 
the  present  century,  in  the  county  of  Tipperary, 
fell  into  the  company  of  another  gentleman,  with 
whom  he  trotted  for  some  miles  along  the  road. 
Upon  reaching  the  end  of  an  avenue,  the  latter  (a 
Mr.  Croker)  invited  his  fellow-traveller  to  his 
house,  as  it  appeared  probable  that  a  storm,  which 
had  been  gathering  on  the  mountains,  would  burst 
in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes.  The  invitation 
was  accepted;  they  rode  up  the  avenue  together, 
and  to  save  time  went  direct  to  the  stables.  A 
tall,  awkward  fellow,  half  menial  half  sportsman 
in  appearance,  took  their  horses  when  they  dis- 
mounted, and  was  addressed,  more  than  once,  by 
Mr.  Croker,  as  "  my  Lord."  On  reaching  the 
house  Mr.  Croker's  guest  inquired  the  reason, 
and  was  told  that  the  stable-boy  was  an  actual 
lord — Lord  Roche,  who  hung  about  the  place, 
where  he  made  himself  very  useful  among  the 
dogs  and  horses,  and  that  he  lived  with  the  serv- 
ants in  the  kitchen,  but  that  his  pride  of  birth 
would  not  allow  him  to  receive  any  wages. 

Castletown-Roche  is  associated  with  the  early 
history  of  Edmund  Burke.  At  this  place  he 
spent  a  considerable  time;  so  much,  it  is  said,  as 


142  IRELAND 

five  years,  "  acquiring  all  that  the  village  school- 
master could  teach." 

Buttevant,  described  by  Borlace,  "  an  old  nest 
of  abbots,  priests,  and  friars,"  though  formerly 
a  place  of  note,  dwindled  into  a  mere  village  with 
the  decay  of  its  noble  abbey.  The  name  is  said 
to  have  been  derived  from  the  war-cry — Boutez- 
en-avant — used  by  David  de  Barry,  one  of  the 
early  English  invaders,  in  his  battles  with  the 
Irish:  Buttevant  was  anciently  called  Botham;, 
and  by  the  Irish — a  name  which  Spenser  has  re- 
corded— Kilnemullagh :  it  was  surrounded  by  a 
stone  wall  with  gateways,  and  was  governed  by 
a  corporation.  And,  scattered  among  wretched 
hovels,  may  be  detected  many  traces  of  its  former 
consequence. 

Buttevant  Abbey  must  have  been  a  pile  of 
considerable  magnitude  and  grandeur.  Close  to 
the  entrance  is  a  large  heap  of  skulls  and  bones, 
said  to  be  the  relics  of  those  who  fell  at  the  battle 
of  Knockninoss,  in  1647,  between  the  army  of 
the  Parliament  commanded  by  Lord  Inchiquin, 
and  the  Irish  forces  under  Lord  Taafe.  In  this 
encounter  was  slain  the  famous  Sir  Alexander 
McDonnell,  whose  sobriquet  of  "  Colkitto  "  has 
been  embalmed  in  the  verse  of  Milton — 

"  Why  it  is  harder,  sirs,  than  Gordon, 


Colkitto  or  Macdonnell,  or  Galasp !  " 

He  commanded  the  forces  sent  by  the  Marquis  of 
Antrim  to  assist  Montrose  in  Scotland,  and  after 
his  return  from  that  service  was  made  lieutenant- 
general  of  the  province  of  Munster,  and  glo- 


CORK  143 

riously  fell  with  nearly  all  his  gallant  regiment 
of  Scots  Highlanders,  who  maintained  their 
ground  with  the  most  desperate  resolution  against 
the  Parliamentary  troops.40 

Buttevant  and  its  neighbourhood — its  hills,  its 
valleys,  and  its  rivers — have  been  rendered  classic 
by  the  pen  of  the  immortal  poet ;  for  Spenser  not 
only  resided  at  Kilcoleman — but  here  he  com- 
posed his  "  Fairy  Queen,"  and  made  the  sur- 
rounding objects  themes  of  his  undying  song. 
Spenser  first  visited  Ireland  in  the  year  1580,  as 
secretary  to  the  Lord  Deputy,  Lord  Grey  de 
Wilton ;  and  discharged  the  duties  of  the  office — 
obtained  for  him  by  the  interest  of  his  noble  and 
gentle  patron  Sir  Philip  Sidney — with  ability  and 
integrity.  In  1582,  he  returned  to  England. 
And  in  1586,  he  obtained  a  grant — dated  the  27th 
June  of  that  year — of  3,028  acres  of  the  forfeited 
estates  of  the  Earl  of  Desmond,  at  the  rent  of 
£17  13s.  6d.  He  received  it  on  the  same  condi- 
tions as  the  other  "  undertakers  " — conditions 
which  implied  a  residence  on  the  property  thus 
acquired,  the  policy  of  the  Queen  being  to  people 
the  province  of  Munster  with  English  families. 
Spenser  took  up  his  residence  at  the  castle  of 
Kilcoleman.  Four  years  of  happy  tranquillity 
here  passed  away,  bearing  for  the  world  the  glo- 
rious fruit  of  the  first  three  books  of  the  Fairy 
Queen.  These  he  conveyed  to  London,  in  com- 
pany with  his  friend  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  and 
there  published  them.  On  his  return  to  Ireland 
he  married,  as  he  tells  us,  a  country  lass  of  mean 
birth,  whose  name  was  Elizabeth.  During  the 


144  IRELAND 

six  years  that  succeeded  he  wrote  the  fourth, 
fifth,  and  sixth  books  of  the  Fairy  Queen,  and 
printed  an  able  and  statesman-like  view  of  the 
condition  of  Ireland.  A  dreadful  calamity  now 
awaited  him — the  fatal  corroboration  of  his  opin- 
ions respecting  the  country.  The  Tyrone  re- 
bellion broke  out  (in  1598),  his  estate  was  plun- 
dered; Kilcoleman  was  burned  by  the  Irish;  in 
the  flames  his  youngest  child  perished;  and  he 
was  driven  into  England  with  his  wife  and  re- 
maining children — a  poor  and  wretched  exile. 
This  affliction  he  never  recovered!  dying  a  year 
after,  in  an  obscure  lodging  in  London,  in  ex- 
treme indigence,  if  not  in  want. 

Of  Spenser's  domestic  life  at  Kilcoleman  we 
know  little  more  than  what  he  has  recorded. 
The  fire  that  destroyed  his  child  no  doubt  con- 
sumed many  valuable  papers,  and  possibly  the 
concluding  books  of  the  Fairy  Queen;41  al- 
though more  than  mere  rumour  exists  for 
believing  that  the  "  lost  books  "  have  been  pre- 
served, and  that  the  manuscript  was  in  the  pos- 
session of  a  Captain  Garrett  Nagle  within  the 
last  forty  years. 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  Kilcoleman  there  are 
several  objects  to  which  Spenser  has  especially 
referred;  and  we  are  justified  in  concluding  that 
the  country  around  him  excited  his  imagination, 
influenced  his  muse,  and  gave  being  to  many  of 
his  most  sublime  or  beautiful  descriptions  of 
scenery.  "  Mole  that  mountain  hore," 

"  And  Mulla  mine,  whose  waves  I  whilome  taught  to  weep ;  " 

— the  river  and  the  mountain  still  endure,  but 


CORK  145 

the  poet's  estate  has  long  since  passed  into  the 
hands  of  those  who  have  neither  his  name  nor 
lineage.  The  Awbeg  or  Mulla  joins  the  Black- 
water  or  Awmore,  at  Bridgetown;  into  the 
Blackwater  also  runs  the  rapid  Funcheon  or 
Faunchin;  and  a  brook  called  Brachbawn,  by 
Spenser  styled  the  Molanna,  which  in  the  sev- 
enth book  of  the  Fairy  Queen  he  thus  beautifully 
pictures : — 

"  For  first  she  springs  out  of  two  marble  rocks, 

On  which  a  grove  of  oaks  high  mounted  grows ; 
That  as  a  girlond  seems  to  deck  the  locks 

Of  some   fair  bride,  brought  forth  with  pompous 

shows, 
Out  of  her  bower  that  many  flowers  strows ; 

So,  through  the  flowery  dales  she  tumbles  down, 
Through  many  woods  and  shady  coverts  flows 

(That  on  each  side  her  silver  channel  crown), 
Till  to  the  plain  she  come,  whose  valleys   she   doth 
drown." 

To  the  river  Faunchin,  also,  the  poet  makes  ref- 
erence in  the  same  canto : — 

"  So  now  her  waves  pass  through  a  pleasant  plain 
Till  with  the  Faunchin  she  herself  do  wed, 
And  both  combined  themselves  in  one  fair  river  spread." 

To  the  Mulla,  his  own  river,  he  often  refers. 
We  are  compelled  to  acknowledge,  however,  that 
the  poet  looked  upon  his  residence  at  Kilcoleman 
as  little  better  than  an  irksome  banishment:  the 
troubled  and  unsettled  state  of  Ireland  during 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth  was  unfavourable  to  the 
ease  and  repose  which  he  ardently  desired;  and 

it  is  not  surprising  that  he  should  have  handed 
v— 10 


146  IRELAND 

down  to  us  unequivocal  proofs  of  his  distaste  of 
the  people  among  whom  he  lived,  by  whom  he 
was  regarded  as  the  receiver  of  property  robbed 
from  its  true  owners,  with  whom  he  had  no  senti- 
ments in  common,  and  whom  he  no  doubt  consid- 
ered enemies  eager  for  his  destruction. 

Charleville  is  a  poor  town.  It  was  so  named 
by  the  Earl  of  Orrery,  the  Lord  President  of 
Munster,  as  a  compliment  to  Charles  II.,  being 
before  called,  to  use  his  Lordship's  expression, 
"  by  the  heathenish  name  of  Rathgogan."  Here 
Lord  Orrery  resided  and  held  his  court,  and 
many  curious  traditions  are  current  respecting 
him,  especially  that  which  relates  to  the  prophecy 
of  Exham,  the  quaker  associate  of  William  Perm, 
who,  it  is  asserted,  foretold  the  destruction  of  the 
Earl's  residence  by  the  Duke  of  Berwick  in  1690. 

The  small  town  of  Newmarket  is  remarkable 
as  the  birthplace  of  Curran,  in  1750.  We  have 
been  told  that  the  Rev.  Nathaniel  Boyse,  to  whom 
he  was  subsequently  indebted  for  means  to  for- 
ward him  in  life,  detected  the  embryo  genius  in 
some  smart  replies  made  by  him,  when  lectured 
by  the  clergyman  for  playing  at  marbles  in  the 
churchyard. 

Mitchelstown  is  the  property  of  the  Earl  of 
Kingston,  whose  magnificent  seat,  a  modern  cas- 
tellated mansion,  is  in  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood. It  was  erected  by  Mr.  Pain,  an  architect 
of  Cork,  recently  deceased;  to  whose  skill,  judg- 
ment, and  experience,  the  city,  and  indeed  the 
country  at  large,  is  very  considerably  indebted.42 

In  the  Barony  of  Duhallow,  and  in  the  imme- 


CORK  147 

diate  neighbourhood  of  Kanturk,  there  lived, 
some  years  ago,  a  man  whose  power  to  subdue 
and  control  the  vices  of  the  horse  was  so  extraor- 
dinary, that  the  account  of  it  would  be  incredible, 
if  the  facts  were  not  borne  out  by  the  testimony 
of  many  living  witnesses.  His  name  was  Sul- 
livan. His  business  was  that  of  a  farrier.  The 
Rev.  Horatio  Townsend,  the  author  of  "  A  Sta- 
tistical Survey  of  the  County  of  Cork,"  describes 
him  as  "  an  awkward,  ignorant  rustic  of  the  low- 
est class."  He  was  known  throughout  the  county 
by  the  sobriquet  of  "  the  Whisperer  " — the  vul- 
gar notion  being  that  he  whispered  his  commands 
into  the  ear  of  the  animal  he  tamed.  When  sent 
for  to  exercise  his  skill,  he  usually  ordered  the 
horse  to  be  taken  into  the  stable,  and  after  care- 
fully closing  the  door,  remained  with  the  animal 
about  ten  minutes.  At  the  end  of  that  time  he 
led  it  forth,  generally  placed  his  child  upon  its 
back,  and  made  him  ride  it  about  the  stable-yard. 
No  matter  how  untractable  had  been  the  animal 
committed  to  his  charge,  its  spirit  was  completely 
broken;  horses  which  the  boldest  riders  were  un- 
able to  mount,  the  bravest  smiths  would  not  at- 
tempt to  shoe,  and  which  had  been  rendered  com- 
pletely valueless  by  vice,  were  restored  to  their 
owners  as  gentle  and  tractable  as  lambs.  The 
effect  was  almost  always  lasting;  but  if  the  ani- 
mal returned  to  its  evil  habits,  a  word,  or  a  look 
from  its  controller,  were  alone  necessary;  it  knew 
and  recognized  the  mysterious  influence  that  had 
been  exercised  over  it ;  and  trembled,  as  the  horse 
is  said  to  do  when  it  encounters  some  preter- 


148  IRELAND 

natural  object.  Mr.  Townsend  relates  an  in- 
stance of  an  experiment  upon  a  "  troop-horse," 
so  vicious  as  to  be  altogether  worthless,  and  in 
reference  to  which  regimental  discipline  had  to- 
tally failed;  and  the  writer  bears  evidence  to 
"  the  complete  success  of  the  art,"  from  actual 
observation.  "  I  noted,"  he  adds,  "  that  the  an- 
imal appeared  terrified  whenever  Sullivan  either 
spoke  to  or  looked  at  him."  We  have  heard  sim- 
ilar facts  related  by  several  gentlemen  of  un- 
questionable veracity;  one,  R.  O'Callaghan 
Newenham,  Esq.,  of  Cork,  who  has  delineated 
and  published  the  picturesque  Antiquities  of 
Ireland,  informed  us  he  had  once  a  horse  so 
vicious  and  untameable,  that,  although  an  ex- 
ceedingly fine  and  handsome  animal,  he  had  of- 
fered it  for  sale  for  four  or  five  pounds.  It  had 
never  been  broke  in ;  no  groom  was  able  to  mount 
it,  and  to  get  it  shod  was  impossible ;  having  acci- 
dentally heard  of  Sullivan's  skill,  he  sent  for 
him,  and  having  agreed  to  pay  him  his  usual  fee 
of  two  guineas,  in  the  event  of  success,  the  "  man 
and  beast "  were  locked  up  in  a  stable.  At  the 
expiration  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  latter  was 
led  out  by  the  former;  the  nature  of  the  animal 
was  completely  changed.  Sullivan  not  only 
placed  his  little  boy  on  its  back,  but  actually 
under  its  feet;  made  the  horse  lie  down  and  rise 
up  at  command;  enter  the  stable  and  come  forth 
at  his  bidding ;  and  made  it  manifest  that  for  the 
future  it  might  be  consigned,  without  danger,  to 
the  care  of  the  most  timid  lad  of  his  manege. 
Mr.  Newenham  kept  the  horse  in  use  for  a  year, 


CORK  149 

rode  it  constantly  himself,  never  found  it  in  the 
least  degree  unruly,  and  eventually  disposed  of  it 
for  fifty  pounds.  He  stated  to  us,  that  when 
the  animal  was  led  out  of  the  stable  it  was  in  a 
high  state  of  perspiration — as  if  it  had  been 
driven  rapidly  for  an  hour — that  it  was  quiver- 
ing in  every  muscle,  and  seemed  to  have  under- 
gone some  intense  agony.  Yet,  neither  in  this 
instance  nor  in  any  other  was  there  detected  the 
slightest  evidence  that  the  animal  had  been  sub- 
jected to  corporeal  pain;  although  the  minutest 
scrutiny  was  of  course  frequently  instituted. 
The  means  by  which  Sullivan  obtained  this  ex- 
traordinary power  is  still  a  secret,  and  likely  to 
continue  so;  for  he  died  without  divulging  it:  his 
son,  indeed,  pursued  his  father's  profession,  but 
with  little  or  no  success;  he  was  either  ignorant 
of  the  mode  of  proceeding,  or  unable  to  adopt  it; 
and  he  is  now,  we  believe,  also  dead.  Sullivan 
might  have  made  a  fortune  if  he  could  have  been 
induced  to  exercise  his  art  elsewhere ;  but  nothing 
could  tempt  him  to  quit  the  miserable  hovel  in 
which  he  resided,  to  abandon  the  low  society  in 
which  was  his  enjoyment,  or  to  give  up  whiskey, 
the  use  of  which  abridged  his  life. 

Passing  through  the  small  and  unimportant 
town  of  Millstreet,  we  return  to  Cork  for  the 
purpose  of  conducting  the  tourist  to  the  county 
of  Kerry — first,  by  the  inland  road,  which  runs 
through  Macroom;  and  next,  by  the  longer,  but 
more  interesting  route,  along  the  coast,  to  Bantry 
and  Glengariff. 


150  IRELAND 

The  river  Lee,  the  Luvius  of  Ptolemy,  from 
the  mouth  to  its  source,  in  the  romantic  lake  of 
Gougane  Barra — a  distance  of  fifty-five  miles 
from  the  city  of  Cork — is  exceedingly  pictur- 
esque and  beautiful.  It  is  less  rapid  than  most 
of  the  Irish  rivers,  and  its  banks  are  frequently 
wooded.  The  Lee  is  interesting,  however,  not 
alone  from  its  natural  advantages;  it  has  associ- 
ations with  the  history  of  the  past — numerous 
castles,  now  in  ruins,  look  down  upon  it,  and 
many  monasteries  and  abbeys  skirt  its  sides. 
Among  the  most  striking  are  the  castle  of  Carrig- 
a-droid  and  the  abbey  of  Kilcrea.  Carrig-a- 
droid  Castle  is  built  on  a  rock  in  the  Lee.  Al- 
though this  pass  of  the  river  must  have  been  one 
of  importance,  the  building  is  comparatively 
modern.  In  1641,  however,  it  was  a  strong  for- 
tress, and  had  the  credit  of  baffling  the  arms  of 
Oliver  Cromwell.  The  Roman  Catholic  Bishop 
of  Ross  had  garrisoned  it  with  an  army  for 
Charles  I.;  Cromwell  dispatched  Lord  Broghill 
with  orders  to  attack  and  scatter  the  Irish  in  this 
quarter;  and  in  the  rout  that  followed — upon 
which  the  muse  of  Davenant  has  complimented 
his  lordship — the  bishop  was  taken  prisoner.  A 
free  pardon  was  offered  to  him  if  he  would  pro- 
cure the  surrender  of  the  castle,  which  he  ap- 
peared willing  to  do ;  he  was  conducted,  to  the 
walls,  where,  instead  of  calling  upon  the  Irish  to 
admit  their  enemies,  he  boldly  adjured  them  to 
hold  out  while  one  stone  remained  upon  another ; 
then,  turning  to  his  astonished  guard,  he  yielded 
to  his  fate,  "  whereupon  he  was  immediately 


CORK  151 

hanged."  Yet  the  castle  was  soon  afterwards 
taken  by  a  very  weak  stratagem.  The  English 
drew  towards  it  the  trunks  of  trees,  by  yoking 
oxen  to  them,  which  the  garrison  perceiving,  mis- 
took for  cannon,  and  "  presently  began  to  parley, 
and  surrendered  upon  articles." 

Tradition  states  the  castle  to  have  been  erected 
by  a  Mac  Carthy,  "  to  please  the  Lady  O'Car- 
roll,"  who  desired  a  residence  on  this  singularly 
wild  and  beautiful  spot.  A  legend,  however,  at- 
tributes its  origin  to  a  circumstance  still  more  ro- 
mantic. A  poor  peasant,  lame  and  hump- 
backed, fell  in  love  with  the  fair  daughter  of  his 
chieftain,  and  pined  in  despair  at  the  hopeless 
nature  of  his  attachment.  Wandering  by  the 
river-side,  he  suddenly  heard  the  click  click  of  the 
Leprehawn's  hammer,43  seized  the  tiny  brogue- 
maker,  and  compelled  him  to  reveal  the  secret  of 
the  whereabouts  of  his  treasure  store.  The  little 
being  not  only  endowed  him  with  riches,  but 
changed  his  awkward  and  ungainly  form  to  one 
of  manly  grace ;  and  the  lovely  Maiga  was  readily 
wooed,  and  easily  won,  by  a  stranger  rich  enough 
to  build  for  her  a  noble  mansion,  and  to  place  the 
wealth  of  earth  at  her  feet. 

The  friary  and  castle  of  Kilcrea,  both  built  by 
Cormac,  Lord  of  Muskerry,  the  one  for  the  pro- 
tection of  the  other,  stand  on  the  banks  of  the 
small  river  Bride,  a  mile  to  the  south  of  the  mail- 
coach  road  between  Cork  and  Macroom,  and 
about  twelve  miles  west  of  Cork.  They  are 
highly  interesting  and  picturesque.  The  ap- 
proach to  both  is  over  a  long  and  narrow  bridge, 


152  IRELAND 

which  appears  to  be  as  old  as  the  venerable  struc- 
tures to  which  it  leads.  The  castle  is  described 
by  Smith  as  "  a  strong  building,  having  an  excel- 
lent staircase  of  a  dark  marble  from  bottom  to 
top,  about  seventy  feet  high.  The  barbicans, 
platforms,  and  ditch,  still  remain.  On  the  east 
side  is  a  large  field  called  the  Bawn,  the  only 
appendage  formerly  to  great  men's  castles, 
which  places  were  used  for  dancing,  goaling, 
and  such  diversions;  and  where  they  also  kept 
their  cattle  by  night,  to  prevent  their  being  car- 
ried off  by  wolves  or  their  more  rapacious  neigh- 
bours." Much  of  this  character  it  still  retains, 
and  the  hand  of  time  has  been  less  busy  with  it 
than  with  others  of  its  class.  We  rejoiced  to 
find  that  its  present  owner  keeps  the  gate  care- 
fully closed,  to  prevent  the  entrance  of  unscrup- 
ulous intruders,  who,  in  defiance  of  the  Pooka 
by  whom  it  is  haunted,  were  in  the  habit  of  delv- 
ing under  the  foundations  in  search  of  "  crocks 
of  gould "  said  to  have  been  buried  there  in 
"  ould  times."  The  floor  of  the  upper  chamber, 
once  the  state  room  of  the  chieftain,  is  now  over- 
grown with  grass;  and  a  pic-nic  party  were  re- 
galing there  when  we  visited  this  relic  of  feudal 
strength  and  grandeur. 

In  the  friary,  or,  as  it  is  usually,  but  errone- 
ously called,  "  the  abbey,"  are  interred  the 
bodies  of  a  host  of  the  Mac  Carthys,  and  among 
them  that  of  its  founder,  who  died  of  wounds  re- 
ceived in  battle,  in  1494.  A  considerable  portion 
of  the  edifice  still  remains.  It  is  divided  into 
two  principal  parts — the  convent  and  the  church 


CORK  153 

— and  retains  the  character  of  considerable 
magnificence  as  well  as  of  great  extent.  As  in 
all  the  ancient  churches,  human  bones  are  piled 
in  every  nook  and  cranny,  thrust  into  corners,  or 
gathered  in  heaps  directly  at  the  entrance — a 
sight  far  more  revolting  than  affecting.  The 
tower  of  the  church  is  still  in  a  good  state  of 
preservation,  and  may  be  ascended,  to  the  top, 
with  a  little  difficulty.  Rows  of  ancient  elm- 
trees  lead  to  the  venerable  ruin.  The  guide — a 
respectable  elderly  woman,  whose  shed  (for,  out- 
side, it  looked  nothing  more)  was  nestled  down 
by  the  road-side,  close  to  the  entrance  gate — 
was,  as  usual,  very  anxious  to  ascertain  the  mo- 
tive of  our  visit  to  Kilcrea: — had  we  come  to 
make  drawings? — a  great  many  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen came  to  "  make  drawins."  She  would 
get  us  "  a  chair,  and  a  table  too,  for  the  matter 
of  that,  if  we  wanted  them."  We  told  her  we 
only  desired  to  look  about  us;  and  entering  a 
little  gate,  proceeded  down  the  fine  avenue.  The 
wall  of  "  mortal  remains  "  we  have  noticed,  we 
said,  ought  to  be  buried;  she  shook  her  coifed 
head  very  gravely,  and  answered,  "  It  would  be 
no  use — they  wouldn't  remain  under  ground!  " 
'  Had  she  ever  tried  the  experiment? ' — "  No — 
not  she  indeed — she  knew  better  than  that." 
The  poor  woman's  demeanour  was  kind  and 
good-natured;  keeping  a  little  in  the  rear,  ready 
with  a  reply,  and  sometimes  an  apt  and  striking 
observation  when  it  was  least  expected.  The 
south,  or  altar  end  of  the  transept  is  lit  by  a  large 
pointed  window,  the  mullions  of  which,  like  those 


154  IRELAND 

of  every  other  window  of  this  building,  have  been 
destroyed  or  taken  away.  It  is  most  painful  to 
those  who  venerate  architectural  remains,  to  see 
them  trodden  under  foot  as  they  were  here;  and 
as  they  invariably  are  in  all  such  places ; 44  we  ex- 
pressed this  sentiment  so  warmly  to  each  other 
as  to  win,  at  once,  the  heart,  and,  consequently, 
the  confidence  of  our  guide. 

'  Why  thin,  good  luck  to  you,  sir,  for  that ; 
and  it's  that  way  of  thinking  Pat  Sweeny's  mare 
was,  when  she  refused  to  carry  the  load  of  stones 
the  villain  rooted  out  of  the  arch,  ma'am,  to  build 
a  pig-sty,  the  irreverent  nagre! "  *  And  the  mare 
would  not  draw  the  stones? '  "  Bad  cess  to  the 
step — only  as  fast  as  he  filled  the  car,  up  with  her 
heels  and  canted  them  every  one  out  on  the  same 
spot;  there  they  are  to  this  day."  *  Did  you  see 
her  do  it  ? '  "  Is  it  see  her  do  it  ?  and  I  care-taker 
here !  Oh  no !  Pat  would  have  been  long  sorry 
to  let  me  catch  him  in  it — let  alone  at  such  mur- 
derin*  work  as  that — any  way,  it  was  before  I 
was  born."  If  we  had  shown  symptoms  of  dis- 
believing the  sagacity  of  "  Pat  Sweeny's  mare," 
we  should  have  sealed,  at  once,  the  old  lady's 
lips;  which  we  had  no  inclination  to  do.  The 
Irish,  in  general,  have  very  high  veneration  for 
whatever  they  consider  holy;  and  a  sneer  or  a 
smile  of  unbelief  at  a  favourite  legend  is  a  sore 
check  to  their  enthusiasm.  We  are  always  care- 
ful not  to  hurt  their  feelings  by  coldness  or  inat- 
tention to  their  communications;  it  is,  after  all, 
but  a  very  small  courtesy  which  is  amply  repaid 
by  the  gift  of  all  their  information,  and  the  warm 


CORK  155 

blessings  of  their  kind  hearts.  '  You  may  think 
that  wonderful,"  she  said;  "but  I  know  what's 
more  so.  A  carpenter,  who  lived  at  a  place  called 
Ballincollig,  got  so  hard  a  heart,  through  being 
always  with  the  soldiers,  that  at  last  he  thought 
there'd  be  no  harm  in  cutting  down  one  of  the 
'  ancient  ould '  elm-trees  in  the  avenue  to  make 
deal  boords  of ;  and  ye  see  when  a  man  sets  about 
what's  not  right,  he  does  it  in  the  night  time.  So 
he  comes  here  with  his  sharp  hatchet  and  a  bottle 
of  whiskey  in  his  pocket,  to  take  his  pick  out  of 
the  trees.  It  was  a  fine  moonlight  night,  and  the 
stars  dancin'  double  in  the  waters  of  '  the  Bride/ 
when  he  walked  leisurely  round  and  round  the 
trees,  and  then  at  last  fixed  on  one — the  finest  in 
it,  which  is  ever  and  always  the  rogue's  choice. 
Well,  without  more  ado,  he  pulled  off  his  jacket 
and  set  to  work." 

"  But  you  must  have  heard  him ;  you  live  so 
close  to  the  avenue?  "  was  our  natural  remark. 

"  It  wasn't  me  that  was  care-taker  then,"  she 
answered ;  "  but  we  never  mind  the  noises  of  the 
place  at  night.  Why  there's  no  end  to  the  treas- 
ure-seekers' digging  about  the  ould  walls ;  and  we 
have  no  call  to  them ;  for  if  they're  warned  off  one 
place,  they  go  to  another.  Well,  he  began;  but 
as  thrue  as  that  the  sun  in  heaven  is  shining  down 
its  bames  upon  this  blessed  spot,  so  thrue  it  is 
that  where  he  struck  the  tree  it  spouted  blood — 
pure  blood  up  in  his  heathenish  face." 

'  Well  I  hope  that  was  a  warning  to  him?  " 

"  Bedad  it  was!  The  mark  of  the  blood  was 
on  his  face  for  many  a  day,  and  the  pure  waters 


156  IRELAND 

of  the  Bride  wouldn't  take  it  out.  I  heer'd  he 
went  to  furrin  parts,  on  a  pilgrimage,  before  he 
was  able  to  show  a  clane  skin  with  any  poor  Chris- 
tian in  Ballincollig. 

'  There's  many  of  the  quality,"  continued  our 
guide,  becoming  communicative  in  proportion  to 
our  attention,  "  who  seek  afther  the  toomb  of  one 
Arthur  O'Leary — I  dare  say  you  might  hear  tell 
of  him?" 

"  Oh  yes!  "  was  our  reply;  "  Arthur  O'Leary 
the  outlaw." 

"Ay! — so  they  called  him,"  she  said,  "but  I 
heer'd  my  father  say,  who  often  saw  him  when  he 
crossed  the  back  of  that  noble  baste  that  cost  him 
his  young  life!  I  often  heer'd  him  say  it  was 
hard  times  for  the  ould  residenters  when  new  men 
were  put  over  their  heads,  and  laws  made  to 
crush  those  that  were  born  on  the  land. — It  was 
my  father  said  it,"  added  our  guide,  in  a  quieter 
tone,  thinking  perhaps  she  had  spoken  more 
freely  than  wisely;  "  it  was  my  father  said  it,  and 
people  are  changed  now." 

We  expressed  our  belief  that  they  were 
changed  for  the  better;  for  that  no  man  now 
would  dare  to  insult  the  poorest  peasant  in  Ire- 
land, as  that  high-born  gentleman — wild  and 
reckless  though  he  was — had  been  insulted! 

"  God  bless  ye!  God  bless  ye! "  muttered  the 
guide.  "  That's  his  toomb,  and  there's  the  de- 
scription of  himself.  I've  known  that  toomb 
taken  in  '  a  round,'  often ;  and  many  a  stubborn 
knee  bent  by  its  side.  I've  seen  strong-hearted 
men,  in  my  time,  cry  bitter  tears  beside  it." 


CORK  157 

She  withdrew  a  little,  and  we  read  the  inscrip- 
tion, engraved  on  a  plain  low  flat  stone — 

"  Lo !  ARTHUR  LEARY,  GENEROUS,  HANDSOME,  BRAVE, 
SLAIN  IN  HIS  BLOOM,  LIES  IN  THIS  HUMBLE  GRAVE."  45 

We  never  saw  a  ruin  so  full  of  graves  as  Kil- 
crea.  Choir,  cloister,  aisles — every  part  is 
crowded.  There  are  some  other  tombs  worthy  of 
notice  within  this  extensive  ruin — where  we  have 
lingered  long,  and  must  remain  a  little  longer 
to  note  an  old  and  remarkably  handsome  woman, 
who  was  praying,  very  devoutly,  in  a  small 
dilapidated  chapel  at  the  right  hand,  near  the 
entrance.  There  was  something  so  meek,  so 
humble,  and  withal  so  earnest  in  her  face,  up- 
turned as  it  was  to  the  heavens  while  the  rosary 
trembled  in  her  fingers,  that  we  asked  the  guide 
who  she  was. 

"  A  poor  ihravelor,  God  help  her,  and  noth- 
ing else,"  was  the  reply.  At  the  instant  it  be- 
gan to  rain,  and  one  of  us  was  glad  to  take 
shelter  in  the  guide's  cottage,  while  the  other 
proceeded  to  inspect  the  ruins  of  the  castle. 

We  have  been  in  many  Irish  cabins;  yet,  per- 
haps, never  in  one  so  neat  or  so  well-ordered,  as 
the  little  one  that  crouches  by  the  entrance  gate 
to  Kilcrea.  The  earthen  floor  was  clean — the 
deal  table  white — and  a  pretty  kitten  was  lap- 
ping milk  upon  it,  who  looked  both  sleek  and 
happy;  there  was  a  half  partition  opposite  the 
door,  where  the  bed  was  placed;  two  coops  filled 
with  speckled  chickens;  a  dresser  heavily  laden 
with  crockery;  two  chairs,  and  a  stool;  complet- 


158  IRELAND 

ing  the  furniture  of  the  room,  in  which  there 
was  barely  space  to  turn  round.  We  almost 
wished  to  have  been  benighted  in  such  a  cottage; 
to  have  sat  with  the  guide  by  the  blazing  faggot, 
and  heard  the  tales — all  the  tales  she  could  tell 
of  the  old  abbey  in  its  glory.  She  wanted  us 
very  much  to  have  some  milk,  or  an  egg; — she 
knew  it  was  fresh,  and  she  could  either  roast  it 
in  the  embers  or  boil  it  in  a  minute.  She  had  a 
cake  of  griddle  bread — there  it  was — if  she 
hadn't  made  too  free,  would  we  have  a  bit  of 
that  ?  Having  offered  us  everything  in  her  cabin, 
we  at  last  prevailed  upon  her  to  sit  down.  She 
forthwith  pulled  out  her  knitting,  and  we  in- 
quired what  she  knew  of  the  woman  we  had  seen 
in  the  abbey. 

"  Ah  thin,"  she  said,  "  my  heart  aches  for  that 
poor  widdy  woman,  though  I  never  set  eyes  on 
her  till  four  or  five  days  ago,  when  she  came  here 
one  morning  faint  and  fasting  to  finish  a  round 
she'd  undertaken." 

"  Going  from  abbey  to  abbey  to  pray  for  re- 
mission of  her  sins?" 

"  Not  her  own  sins,"  she  replied,  "  but  poor 
thing,  here  she  is  coming  in  out  of  the  rain;  she 
laves  me  to-morrow." 

"  Does  she  lodge  with  you?  " 

"  We  give  her  the  length  and  breadth  of  her- 
self, at  night,  on  a  lock  of  straw  under  the  table ; 
and,  sure,  neither  me  nor  mine  will  ever  miss  the 
bit  or  the  sup  the  Lord  allows  us  to  have  for  such 
as  her."  Oh,  what  lessons  of  loving-kindness 
are  to  be  learned  in  Irish  cottages;  hospitality 


CORK  159 

without  display,  and  that  true  generosity  which 
takes  from  its  own  necessities  to  relieve  the  neces- 
sities of  others! 

We  at  once  observed  that  the  woman  was 
superior  to  the  generality  of  her  class;  she  was 
neatly  clad;  her  cap  was  white  as  snow;  and  a 
broad  black  riband  fastened  round  it  indicated 
an  attempt  at  mourning.  We  had  asked  her 
how  she  intended  to  return,  and  her  simple  an- 
swer was,  "  The  Lord  will  raise  me  up  friends 
to  help  me  on  the  way ;  sure,  hasn't  He  helped  me 
homewards  already?"  she  added,  as  she  looked 
on  the  silver  we  had  given  her,  "  praise  be  to  His 
holy  name,  that  cares  for  the  widow  and  the 
fatherless ! " 

'  You've  had  a  busy  time  of  it  lately,"  we  said, 
as  she  entered  the  small  cabin,  and  with  a  meek 
curtsey  took  the  seat  we  insisted  on  her  taking — 
"  a  very  busy  time  of  it  lately?  " 

"  I  have,  praise  be  to  Him  who  gave  me  the 
strength  to  get  over  it!  a  very  busy  time;  it's  a 
long  journey  from  Kenmare  to  Kilcrea,  a  weari- 
some journey;  and  a  wonderful  thing  to  be 
climbing  the  mountains ;  it's  a  fine  thing  too,  my 
lady — for  somehow  one  feels  nearer  to  the  Al- 
mighty. I  thought  the  life  would  leave  me  be- 
fore I  got  over  the  '  Priest's  Leap,' — that  is  a 
wonderful  mountain  intirely — I  don't  suppose 
there's  many  higher  than  that  in  the  world." 

"  And  why  did  you  undertake  such  a  journey? 
you  seem  old." 

"  I  am  old,  my  lady — three  score  and  eight 
years  at  the  least; — but  God  fits  the  back  to  the 


160  IRELAND 

burden,  and  the  limbs  to  the  mountain  steep.  I 
wouldn't,  for  all  that,  have  took  it,  only  for  the 
reason  I  had;  you  see,  ma'am,  since  you've  been 
so  good  as  to  ask — you  see,  afther  the  will  of  the 
Lord  had  taken  from  me  my  husband  (the 
heavens  be  his  bed),  and  my  poor  boys,  He  left 
me  one  little  girl — a  delicate,  gentle  creature — 
and  though  she  was  my  own  child,  I  may 
say,  a  handsomer  or  a  better  girl  never  brought 
the  sunshine  to  a  lone  widow's  cabin.  Oh,  but 
her  goodness  was  past  telling.  When  I  closed 
my  eyes  as  if  asleep,  I  was  sure  to  hear  her  voice 
praying  for  me — when  I  opened  them  in  the 
morning,  she  was  there  beaming  blessings  on  me. 
She  was  so  handy!  Such  a  fine  scholar  too! 
The  brightest  girl,  the  schoolmaster  said,  that 
ever  stood  at  his  knee.  Well,  ma'am  dear,  every 
true  crown  has  its  cross.  My  little  girl's  love 
was  sought  by  many,  but  won  by  a  young  man 
respected  by  no  one,  though  chose  by  her. 
'  Alley,'  says  I,  *  if  you  marry  Laurence  Daly, 
you'll  break  my  heart.'  '  Mother/  she  says, 
throwing  her  arms,  white  as  a  wreath  of  snow, 
about  me, '  mother,'  she  says, '  I'll  never  do  that.' 
My  mind  was  as  light  as  a  feather  at  first,  for  I 
knew  she'd  keep  her  word.  But  oh,  my  grief! 
to  see  her  wastin',  and  wastin', — dying  in  the 
sight  of  my  eyes — to  see  that,  almost  took  the 
life  from  me.  She  made  no  complaint,  but  fell 
away  like  the  blossom  off  the  bough  of  a  summer 
tree;  and  I  could  not  bear  to  look  in  her  faded 
face ;  and  I  says,  '  Alley,  take  him — take  him, 
avourneen;  and  from  this  day  out  I'll  never  say 


CORK  161 

a  word  aginst  him.'  In  less  than  a  month  from 
them  words  she  was  blooming  as  a  rose;  in  an- 
other— she  was  his  wife!"  The  poor  woman 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  wept  bit- 
terly. "  His  love,"  she  continued,  "  never,  to 
say,  turned;  and  he  was  gentler  to  her  than  he 
could  be  to  any  other  thing;  and  if  he  had  kept 
from  meddling  with  what  didn't  concern  him, 
all  would  have  gone  well  enough ;  but  he  got  into 
trouble — sore  trouble — and  the  end  of  it  was,  that 
three  years  after  they  were  married,  he  was  in  the 
jail  at  Tralee,  and  my  poor  child — my  poor  Alice 
— at  the  feet  of  every  one  in  the  county  that 
could  help  her  to  pass  a  word  through  the  iron 
bars  or  get  her  a  look  at  him.  Now  wasn't  it 
strange ! — she  was  as  pure  in  the  light  of  heaven, 
as  pure  as  unf alien  snow;  and  she  knew  he  was 
guilty.  She  would  not  even  deny  it — for  the 
thought  of  falsity  wasn't  in  her — and  still  her  love 
grew  stronger  the  greater  grew  his  trouble.  It 
isn't  for  me  to  tell  what  she  went  through.  Be- 
fore the  first  blush  of  morning  she'd  be  on  her 
knees  at  prayer;  and,  I'm  sure,  for  six  weeks 
that  passed  betwixt  his  taking  and  trial,  the  rest 
of  sleep  was  never  on  her  eyes  for  five  minutes 
together.  I  asked  her,  when  the  day  came,  for 
the  love  of  God  and  of  me,  her  broken-hearted 
mother,  not  to  go  to  the  court-house,  but  she 
would — and  she  did.  She  clung  to  my  side  in 
the  crowd,  and  I  felt  her  heart  beating  against 
my  arm ;  I  darn't  look  at  her,  and  she  kept  crush- 
ing closer  and  closer  to  me  until  the  trial  began, 

and  then  she  gathered  strength  and  stood  up- 
v— 11 


162  IRELAND 

right,  at  once.  All  along,  her  husband  denied 
that  he  was  in  it  at  all,  when  the  great  harm  was 
done;  and  two  or  three  more  boys  stood  up  for 
the  same.  *  There,'  said  the  Counsel  for  the 
Crown,  pointing  to  my  poor  Alice,  '  there's  his 
own  wife — ask  her  where  her  husband  was  that 
night.'  Every  one  cried  shame ;  and  the  Counsel 
for  the  prisoners  said  it  was  contrary  to  law  to 
question  a  man's  own  wife;  but  before  I  could 
get  at  the  rights  of  it,  Alley,  throwing  her  arms 
round  me,  muttered,  *  Mother,  take  me  away — 
I  can't  tell— I  can't  tell! '  With  that  a  neigh- 
bour's son,  who  had  loved  my  little  girl  all  her 
life  a'most — a  fine  fellow  he  was,  though  she 
never  would  hear  to  him,  and  with  a  good  char- 
acter, and  of  decent  people,  that  wouldn't  look 
at  the  same  side  of  the  road  with  Laurence  Daly 
— steps  out  at  once,  with  his  cheeks  reddened  and 
his  eyes  like  diamonds,  and  says  he,  '  Hear  me,' 
says  he,  *  I  can  swear  where  he  was  that  night; 
and  no  one  who  knows  me,  will  think  I  favour 
Larry  Daly.'  Between  supporting  Alice,  who 
fell  in  a  faint  on  my  bosom,  not  knowing  what 
was  coming,  and  knowing  myself  that  the  boy 
had  good  cause  to  spite  Laurence,  I  thought  my 
senses  would  lave  me;  and  then  my  blood  ran 
cowld  to  the  heart,  and  my  brain  felt  as  if  afire ; 
for  I  heard  him  sworn  and  prove  an  ALIBI  for 
the  prisoner.  When  it  was  over,  his  cheek  was 
like  the  cheek  of  a  corpse,  and  no  light  was  in 
his  eyes;  he  came  forward  to  the  outside,  where 
Alice  came  a  little  to  herself,  and  understanding 
her  husband  was  safe,  was  crying,  like  an  in- 


CORK  163 

fant  when  it  first  draws  in  the  air  of  a  sorrowing 
world ;  he  made  the  throng  keep  back,  and  afther 
looking  at  her  for  a  minute,  he  whispers,  *  Alice, 
live,  avourneen;  live  and  be  happy,  for  to  save 
you  I've  done  what  an  hour  agone,  I  didn't 
think  I  could  have  done.  I've  sinned  my  soul, 
Alice,  for  you;  so  live,  and  God  bless  you.' 
I've  heard  of  the  love  of  many  a  man,  but 
I  think  that  bates  it  all;  and  though  what 
he  did  was  not  right,  still  he  did  it  for  pure 
love  of  my  child: — love,  without  any  feeling 
in  it  that  could  make  a  blush  rise  to  the 
cheek  of  a  married  woman,  or  cause  the  pang  of 
shame  at  her  heart ;  and  that's  a  wonderful  thing 
to  say.  But  his  love  didn't  end  here.  I  was  go- 
ing home  from  Laurence's  cabin,  and  after  see- 
ing them  happy  together  once  more,  and  he  mak- 
ing all  the  good  resolutions  a  man  always  makes, 
at  the  first  goin'  off,  afther  getting  out  of  trouble, 
and  the  children  so  glad,  poor  things,  to  have 
their  father  again;  and  as  I  was  going  on,  just 
at  the  end  of  the  boreen,  '  Mrs.  Lawler,'  says  a 
voice,  (you'll  excuse  my  telling  his  name,)  '  Mrs. 
Lawler,'  he  says,  '  afther  to-day,  I  can't  stay  in 
the  place.  Who  knows,  but  Laurence  is  so  odd 
tempered,  he  might  mistrust  his  wife,  knowing 
as  he  does  that  I  perjured  myself  to  make  her 
happy.  Those  that  ar'n't  what  they  should  be,, 
often  think  bad  of  others ;  so  I'll  go  to  America, 
Mrs.  Lawler,  and  mind  the  last  prayer  I'll  brathe 
in  Irish  air  will  be  for  Alice.' '  Again  the  old 
woman  wept ;  it  was  some  time  before  she  added, 
"  And  I  saw  him  no  more."  I  begged  of  her  to 


164  IRELAND 

continue.  "  It's  soon  ended  now,"  she  said,  "  and 
not  much  to  tell;  but  the  poor  have  more  trials 
than  the  mere  want  of  food,  and  I've  often 
thought  that  when  the  rich  and  the  stranger  laugh 
at  their  rags,  or  turn  from  them  in  disgust,  they 
don't  think  that  maybe  the  heart  beating  under 
them  has  a  dale  of  feeling. 

"  Well,  as  I  said,  I'll  soon  be  done  now:  Alice, 
my  poor  child,  every  one  saw  she  was  going, 
and  yet  the  darling,  she  talked  for  evermore  of 
taking  *  a  round; '  and  I  used  to  talk  to  her,  and 
tell  her  what  sin  had  she  to  answer  for  to  put  that 
in  her  head — and  she'd  only  smile !  Oh  then,  but 
the  smile  upon  patient  lips  is  scalding  to  the  heart 
to  look  at:  Oh,  God  forgive  me  for  having 
wearied  Him  with  prayers  to  leave  the  angel  he 
was  winging  for  heaven  a  little  longer  over  her 
children — and  to  close  my  eyes — and  Laurence, 
poor  man!  he  was  sorry  too,  and  so  loud  in  his 
grief  that  it  shook  her  spirit.  The  priest  had 
been  with  her,  and  said  to  me  as  he  was  going 
out,  '  Take  comfort,  for  it's  a  great  privilege  to 
have  reared  up  a  child  for  heaven ;  I  wish  we  were 
all  as  sure  of  it  as  she  is.'  After  that  I  went 
in,  and  she  told  the  people  she  wanted  a  few 
words  with  her  mother:  they  cleared  out  of  the 
little  room  at  once;  and  her  voice  was  so  thin 
I  could  hardly  hear  it,  and  her  breath  on  my 
cheek  was  cold  as  the  first  breath  of  the  new 
frost  upon  the  air  in  harvest.  '  There's  one 
thing,'  she  whispered,  '  though  his  reverence  says 
it's  no  harm,  that's  heavy  on  my  heart — it's  a 


CORK  165 

debt — if  I  could  have  lived  to  pay  it  I  should  die 
easy/ 

"  What  debt,  dear?  I  asked. 

"  '  You  remember  THAT  day,  mother?  * 

"  Ay,  sure,  I  said. 

"  «  And  what  he  did?' 

"  Yes,  darling,  it's  not  easy  forgot. 

"  *  He  sinned  his  soul.' 

"  The  Lord  above  is  merciful,  and  will  forgive 
him,  I  pray  night  and  day,  I  made  answer. 

" '  He  was  nothing  to  me  more  than  a  neigh- 
bour's child,'  she  went  on,  '  and  for  all  his  love 
I  never  gave  him  a  good  word;  yet  mother — 
mother — he  perjured  himself  for  my  sake.' 

"  The  Lord  is  merciful,  I  said  again ;  what 
else  could  I  say?  and  sure  it  was  the  truth  any 
how. 

" '  Yes,  I  know  that ;  but  I  made  a  vow  that 
night,  to  take  my  rounds  at  the  holy  Abbey  of 
Kilcrea,  so  that  the  sin  might  be  taken  off  him 
through  my  means.  Oh  mother,  that  is  denied 
me,  and  I  must  die  with  it  on  my  soul — I  can't 
get  rid  of  it.' 

"  No,  avourneen,  no,  I  said ;  the  way  is  long, 
and  I  am  old  and  poor,  but  by  the  blessing  of 
the  holy  saints  I'll  take  off  yer  vow:  I'll  do  for 
you  what,  if  the  Lord  had  spared  you,  you'd  have 
done  for  yourself. — I  made  the  vow  on  my  knees. 

"  '  Oh  my  mother,  my  mother,  my  mother ! ' 
she  said,  as  if  a  new  life  had  sprung  in  her,  and 
then  faded,  faded,  faded.  She  was  gone — be- 
fore Laurence  and  the  children  could  catch  her 


166  IRELAND 

last  breath;  but  she  died  happy,  and  so  shall  I 
now,  for  I've  done  all  she  would  have  done." 

Between  Kilcrea  and  Macroom  there  are  sev- 
eral ruins  of  castles,  once  the  strongholds  of  the 
Mac  Sweenys,  powerful  chieftains,  although 
feudatories  to  the  lords  of  Muskerry.  On  the 
high  road,  it  is  stated  on  the  authority  of  Smith, 
there  was  a  stone  set  up  by  one  of  the  family, 
who  were  "  anciently  famous  for  hospitality, 
with  an  Irish  inscription,  signifying  to  all  pas- 
sengers to  repair  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Edmund 
Mac  Sweeny  for  entertainment."  The  historian 
adds  that,  in  his  time,  the  stone  was  still  to  be 
seen  lying  in  a  ditch,  where  it  had  been  flung  by 
a  degenerate  descendant,  who,  according  to  pop- 
ular belief,  never  throve  afterwards.  Townsend 
also  describes  an  Irishman  of  the  same  class, 
whose  residence  was  nigh  to  Mill-street,  in  this 
district  of  the  county.  He  was  the  chief  of  his 
clan,  and  was  known  only  by  the  name  of 
O'Leary;  to  have  addressed  him  by  the  term 
"  Mister "  would  have  been  a  mortal  offence. 
He  was  one  of  the  last  who  kept  "  open  house 
to  all  comers ;  "  had  food  and  drink  and  lodging 
for  all  who  asked  it ;  and  although  his  cellar  was 
well  stocked  with  wine,  it  never  knew  the  pro- 
tection of  lock  or  key,  for,  as  he  used  to  say, 
"  nobody  had  occasion  to  steal  what  any  one 
might  have  for  asking."  It  derived  security, 
however,  from  other  causes — from  deference  to 
his  sway  and  respect  for  his  person,  both  of  which 
were  universally  felt  and  acknowledged  within 


CORK  167 

the  circle  of  his  influence.  His  appearance  was 
always  sufficient  to  maintain  order  at  fairs  and 
meetings,  and  to  suppress  disturbances  without 
the  aid  of  soldier  or  constable.  He  is  said  to 
have  possessed  some  admirable  requisites  for  a 
maintaining  of  the  public  peace,  being  a  very 
athletic  man,  and  always  carrying  a  long  pole, 
of  which  the  unruly  knew  him  to  be  no  churl.46 

The  town  of  Macroom,  twenty-four  miles  west 
of  Cork,  is  situate  on  the  Sullane — a  river  which, 
for  extent  and  beauty,  rivals  the  Lee.  The 
castle  of  Macroom  is  very  ancient,  or  rather  parts 
of  it  are  of  very  remote  antiquity,  for  it  has  un- 
dergone many  of  the  chances  and  changes  in- 
cident to  the  civil  wars.  It  was  converted  by  its 
late  proprietor,  Robert  Hedges  Eyre,  Esq.,  one 
of  the  last  of  "  the  good  old  Irish  gentlemen," 
into  a  comfortable  mansion;  and  it  is  now  easy 
to  distinguish  the  ancient  from  the  modern  por- 
tions of  the  building.  It  consists  of  one  huge 
square  of  masonry — the  mere  keep — with  em- 
battled parapets;  but  the  hand  of  taste  is  not 
very  apparent  in  the  alterations  it  has  under- 
gone to  convert  the  ancient  fortalice  of  the 
O'Flynns  into  a  dwelling-house  of  the  eight- 
eenth century.47 

From  Macroom  to  Killarney  the  road  is  by 
no  means  picturesque;  it  passes  along  the  banks 
of  the  river  Sullane,  and  through  the  small  vil- 
lage of  Ballyvourney,  almost  the  only  congrega- 
tion of  houses  in  the  route.  It  runs,  however, 
within  a  few  yards  of  the  singular  castle  of  Car- 
rig-a-pooka,  built,  according  to  Smith,  by  the 


168  IRELAND 

Mac  Carthy  of  Drishane,  and  placed  on  the  sum- 
mit of  a  solitary  rock,  so  steep  as  to  render  cau- 
tion necessary  in  climbing  it.  It  is  now  a  single 
tower,  and  never  could  have  been  much  more 
extensive,  for  it  almost  covers  the  rock  on  which 
it  stands. 

A  visit  to  the  castle  affords  us  an  opportunity 
for  introducing  to  the  reader  one  of  the  fairy 
legends  of  Ireland — the  legend  of  the  Pooka. 

Of  the  malignant  class  of  beings  composing 
the  Irish  fairy  mythology — and  it  is  creditable 
to  the  national  character  that  they  are  the  least 
numerous — the  Pooka  excels,  and  is  pre-eminent 
in  malice  and  mischief.  In  form  he  is  a  very 
Proteus, — generally  a  horse,  but  often  an  eagle. 
He  sometimes  assumes  the  figure  of  a  bull;  or 
becomes  an  ignis  fatuus.  Amongst  the  great 
diversity  of  forms  at  times  assumed  by  him,  he 
exhibits  a  mixture  or  compound  of  the  calf  and 
goat.  Probably  it  is  in  some  measure  owing  to 
the  assumption  of  the  latter  figure  that  he  owes 
his  name ;  puc  being  the  Irish  for  a  goat.  Gold- 
ing,  in  his  translation  of  Ovid,  describes  him  by 
name,  in  a  character  of  which  the  goat  forms  a 
component  part : — 

"  The  country  where  Chymaera,  that  same  Pouk, 
With  goatish  body,  lion's  head  and  breast,  and  dragon's 
tail,"  &c. 

And  Spenser  has  the  following  lines: — 

"  Ne  let  the  Pouke,  nor  other  evil  spirit, 
Ne  let  mischievous  witches  with  their  charms, 
Ne  let  hobgoblins,  names  whose  sense  we  know  not, 
Fray  us  with  things  that  be  not." 


CORK  169 

The  Pouke  or  Pooka  means  literally  the  evil 
one ;  "  playing  the  puck,"  a  common  Anglo- 
Irish  phrase,  is  equivalent  to  "  playing  the 
devil." 

There  are  many  localities,  favourite  haunts  of 
the  Pooka,  and  to  which  he  has  given  his  name, 
as  Drohid-a-Pooka,  Castle  Pook,  and  Carrig-a- 
Pooka.  The  island  of  Melaan,  also,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Kenmare  river,  is  a  chosen  site 
whereon  this  malignant  spirit  indulges  his  freaks. 
It  is  uninhabited,  and  is  dreaded  by  the  peas- 
antry and  fishermen,  not  less  because  of  its 
gloomy,  rugged,  and  stern  aspect,  than  for  the 
tales  of  terror  connected  with  it.  The  tempest 
wails  fearfully  around  its  spectre-haunted  crags, 
and  dark  objects  are  often  seen  flitting  over  it 
in  the  gloom  of  night.  Shrill  noises  are  heard, 
and  cries,  and  halloos,  and  wild  and  moaning 
sounds;  and  the  fishermen  benighted  or  forced 
upon  its  rocks  may  often  behold,  in  the  crowd- 
ing groups  which  flit  around,  the  cold  faces  of 
those  long  dead — the  silent  tenants,  for  many 
years,  of  field  and  wave.  The  consequence  is, 
that  proximity  to  the  island  is  religiously  avoided 
by  the  boats  of  the  country  after  sunset,  and 
a  bold  crew  are  they  who,  at  nightfall,  approach 
its  haunted  shores. 

The  great  object  of  the  Pooka  seems  to  be  to 
obtain  a  rider;  and  then  he  is  all  in  his  most 
malignant  glory. — Headlong  he  dashes  through 
briar  and  brake,  through  flood  and  fell,  over 
mountain,  valley,  moor,  or  river,  indiscriminately; 
up  or  down  precipice  is  alike  to  him,  provided 


170  IRELAND 

he  gratifies  the  malevolence  that  seems  to  inspire 
him.  He  bounds  and  flies  over  and  beyond  them, 
gratified  by  the  distress,  and  utterly  reckless  and 
ruthless  of  the  cries,  and  danger  and  suffering, 
of  the  luckless  wight  who  bestrides  him.  As 
the  "  Tinna  Geolane,"  or  Will  o'  the  Wisp,  he 
lures  but  to  betray ;  like  the  Hanoverian  "  Tuck- 
bold,"  he  deludes  the  night  wanderer  into  a  bog, 
and  leads  him  to  his  destruction  in  a  quagmire 
or  pit.  Macpherson's  spirit  of  Loda  is  evidently 
founded  on  the  tradition  of  the  Pooka;  and  in 
the  Fienian  Tales  he  is  repeatedly  mentioned  as 
the  "  Puka  (gruagach,  or  hairy  spirit)  of  the  blue 
valley." 

The  English  Puck  is  a  jolly,  frolicsome,  night- 
loving  rogue,  full  of  archness,  and  fond  of  all 
kinds  of  merry  tricks,  "  a  shrewd  and  knavish 
spirit,"  as  Shakspeare  has  it.  But  he  is,  never- 
theless, very  probably  in  his  origin  the  same  as 
the  Irish  Pooka;  as,  besides  the  resemblance  in 
name,  we  find  he  has  not  at  all  times  sustained 
his  laughter-loving  character;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, exhibited  unquestionable  proof  of  his  Irish 
affinity  or  descent.  For  this  we  have  the  poeti- 
cal authority  of  Drayton,  in  his  "  Polyolbion." 

"This  Puck  seems  but  a  dreaming  dolt, 
Still  walking  like  a  ragged  colt, 
And  oft  out  of  a  bush  doth  bolt 

Of  purpose  to  deceive  us, 
And,  leaving  us,  makes  us  to  stray 
Long  winter  nights  out  of  the  way ; 
And  when  we  stick  in  mire  and  clay, 
He  doth  with  laughter  leave  us." 


CORK  171 

The  early  English  adventurers  imported  to 
the  Irish  shores  their  softened  version  of  the 
native  Pooka,  under  his  Saxon  appellation  of 
Puck,  and  have  left  his  name  to  Puck's  rock 
near  Howth,  and  Puck  castle,  a  romantic  ruin  in 
the  county  of  Dublin. 

An  ancient  chronicler,  at  Bantry,  related  to 
us  the  adventures  of  many  of  his  friends,  as  "  con- 
firmation strong,"  to  support  his  assertion  that 
a  Pooka  haunted  his  own  neighbourhood.  "  He 
knew  two  boys  who,  on  their  way  to  a  midnight 
mass — rather  fresh — met  a  horse;  let's  get  on 
his  back,  says  one;  wid  all  the  veins,  says  an- 
other; so  they  got  up;  and  och!  murdher,  didn't 
he  give  'em  a  ride;  laving  them  next  morning 
twenty  miles  from  their  own  door."  This  how- 
ever is  the  only  instance,  within  our  knowledge, 
of  the  spirit  being  encountered  by  more  than  one 
at  a  time.  On  our  venturing  to  hint  that  the 
fact  was  unusual,  we  were  met  at  once  by  an 
answer,  "  Sure  weren't  the  both  of  'em  brothers." 
Another  friend  of  the  old  man's  "  going  through 
a  narrow  pass,  heerd  a  horse  coming  along  at  a 
fast  gallop,  and  drew  up  to  let  him  pass,  when 
he  heerd  a  voice  by  his  side  say,  '  Lien ' — that's 
lie  down — '  here's  the  Pooka  coming ; '  and  sure 
enough  he  saw  the  baste  with  his  eyes  and  nose 
flashing  out  fire.  So  the  boy  turns  round  and 
says,  *  Who  are  you  ? ' — thinking  'twas  a  fellow 
Christian  that  gave  him  the  warning.  '  I'm  the 
Lanian  Shee/  says  the  voice.  Now  wasn't  it 
queer  that  the  spirit  should  be  afeard  of  the 


172  IRELAND 

Pooka? — but  you  see  they  weren't  friends  at  all 
at  all." 

The  highest  of  the  Galtee  mountains,  called 
the  Galtee  More,  and  sometimes  Dawson's  seat, 
rises  over  a  gloomy  lake  which  is  said  to  be  the 
residence  of  a  Pooka,  who  is  believed  to  be 
chained  at  the  bottom,  and  only  permitted  to 
make  excursions  upon  state  occasions.  The  lake 
is  believed,  to  this  day,  to  possess,  in  consequence 
of  its  terrible  inhabitant,  the  three  following 
properties: — First,  It  is  unfathomable:  an  at- 
tempt was  once  made  to  sound  it,  and,  from  the 
descriptions  of  the  people,  it  appears  that  the 
regular  process  was  adopted,  yet  no  line  could 
be  found  that  would  reach  the  bottom.  Sec- 
ondly, The  warmest  day  in  summer,  let  the  light- 
est breeze  arise,  and  the  cold  about  the  lake  will 
be  intense.  Thirdly,  Although  the  lake  does 
not  appear  of  great  extent,  yet  no  stone  could 
ever  be  thrown  across  it.  We  have  heard  that  a 
famous  stone-thrower  from  Clonmel,  who  could 
throw  a  stone  from  Fairy  Hill  to  the  other  side 
of  the  river — a  much  greater  apparent  distance 
than  the  extent  of  the  lake — attempted  to  throw 
a  stone  across  the  watery  habitation  of  the  Pooka, 
but,  like  all  other  stones,  it  did  not  go  beyond 
the  centre,  and  then  fell  powerless  into  the  dark 
waters.  There  is  a  tradition  that  one  of  the 
Dawson  family  (whose  mansion  is  within  view 
of  the  lake)  once  attempted  to  drain  it.  Ac- 
cordingly everything  was  prepared,  and  the  en- 
gineer and  labourers  set  actively  about  the  work ; 
but  they  had  not  gone  far  with  it  when  a  sudden 


CORK  173 

light  shone  around  them,  and  on  looking  towards 
the  direction  from  whence  it  came,  they  saw  the 
mansion  of  their  employer  on  fire.  They  im- 
mediately all  ran  to  the  spot  to  extinguish  the 
flames,  but  on  arriving  at  it,  the  fire  instantly 
vanished,  and  the  place  exhibited  no  appearance 
of  having  received  any  injury.  They  returned 
to  their  work,  but  immediately  the  flames  burst 
out  from  the  mansion  again;  and,  on  their  once 
more  coming  up,  the  illusion  as  instantly  van- 
ished. This  having  been  repeated  several  times, 
they  at  length  relinquished  their  purpose,  tak- 
ing the  hint  that  the  Pooka  would  not  have  "  the 
secrets  of  his  prison-house  "  explored. — Such  is 
the  tradition  current  to  this  day  in  the  glen  of 
Aherlow. 

Of  the  pranks  of  the  Pooka,  as  will  be  im- 
agined, many  amusing  stories  are  told  by  the 
peasantry;  all  generally,  however,  having  nearly 
the  same  termination : — "  And,  plase  yer  hon- 
our, I  found  myself  in  the  morning  lying  in  a 
wet  ditch;  and  it  couldn't  be  the  drop  I  tuk; 
for,  barring  a  few  glasses  at  a  neighbour's,  I 
didn't  drink  a  drop  at  all  at  all,  all  day." 

One  of  these  stories,  having  more  than  the 
usual  point,  we  shall  repeat,  as  nearly  as  we  can, 
in  the  words  in  which  we  received  it;  only  re- 
gretting that  we  have  it  at  second-hand,  being 
unable  to  record  the  fact  on  better  authority,  in 
consequence  of  the  decease  of  the  actual  ad- 
venturer. 

"  It  was,  ye  see,  sir,  my  cousin,  Jerry  Deasy, 
that  done  the  Pooka;  and  that's  more  than  e'er 


174,  IRELAND 

another  boy  can  say,  betwixt  this  and  the  Cause- 
way. A  hearty  chap  he  was;  there  wasn't  the 
likes  of  him  at  fair  or  pattern,  for  breaking  the 
heads  of  the  boys,  and  the  hearts  of  the  girls, 
and  the  backs  of  the  horses;  the  only  thing  he 
couldn't  master  was  the  drop.  Och,  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  that  same,  he'd  be  to  the  fore  this  day, 
to  tell  yer  honour  all  about  it.  Well,  he  was 
sthreeling  home  wid  a  neighbour  one  dark  night, 
and  the  both  of  'em  war  a  little  overtaken,  and 
complaining  of  the  length  of  the  road,  as  they 
joulted  from  one  side  to  the  other  widout  near- 
ing  many  steps  tow'rds  Ballyvourney ;  when 
says  my  cousin,  says  he — a  mighty  pleasant  man 
he  always  was — *  It  isn't  the  length  of  it  at  all  at 
all,  but  the  breadth  of  it  that's  killing  me; '  wid 
that  he  laid  himself  down  in  the  ditch,  and  the 
never  a  stir  he'd  stir;  so  the  other  boy  went  on 
and  left  him.  Well,  yer  honour,  just  as  he  was 
settling  himself  for  a  sleep,  what  should  he  hear 
but  a  shnort  and  a  neigh.  '  That's  a  horse,' 
says  he;  and  wid  that  he  gave  a  click,  click,  and 
held  out  his  hand  as  if  'twas  a  whisp  of  hay 
was  in  it.  So  the.  horse  came  up,  and  wasn't 
Jerry  on  his  back  in  a  jiffy?  '  'Ar-up,'  says  he; 
but  'twasn't  needed.  Off  went  the  Pooka  like 
shot — for  the  Pooka  it  was  surely — up  hill  and 
down  hill,  through  the  bog  and  the  river;  and 
wherever  a  furze  bush  and  briar  was,  there  he 
went.  Poor  Jerry  could  make  no  hand  of  him; 
the  life  was  sthruck  out  of  him  at  last,  and  in 
the  morning  he  found  himself  kilt,  in  the  very 
place  where  he  met  the  vicious  baste  over  night. 


CORK  175 

Well,  sir,  Jerry  kept  himself  sober — for  him — 
till  the  next  gale  day,  when  his  honour,  the  land- 
lord, wouldn't  hear  of  him  going  home  widout 
a  rasonable  sup;  and  when  Jerry  came  near  the 
ould  castle  at  nightfall,  he  purtended  to  be 
mighty  wake,  and  not  able  to  stand  at  all  at  all; 
and,  just  as  he  expicted,  up  trots  the  Pooka,  and 
'  Mount,  Jerry  Deasy,'  says  he,  '  and  I'll  car  ye 
home/  '  Will  ye  go  asy? '  says  Jerry.  *  As 
mild  as  new  milk,'  says  the  desaving  vagabone. 
Wid  that,  Jerry  gave  a  spring,  and  got  astride 
him.  Well,  my  dear,  off  the  blackguard  set 
agin,  a  gallop  that  ud  bate  a  flash  o'  lightning  on 
the  Curragh  o'  Kildare.  But  Jerry  was  too 
cute  for  him  this  time;  and  as  fast  as  the  Pooka 
druv,  Jerry  plunged  his  bran-new  spurs  into 
his  sides,  and  shtruck  away  wid  his  kippeen  at 
the  head  of  him,  until  the  Pooka  was  as  quiet  as 
a  lamb,  and  car'd  him  to  his  own  door.  Now 
wasn't  that  a  grate  thing  for  a  boy  to  do — to 
make  a  tame  nagur  of  a  Pooka?  I'll  go  bail  the 
scoundrel  never  came  in  Jerry  Deasy's  way  from 
that  day  to  this." 

To  examine,  properly,  the  romantic  lake  of 
Gougane  Barra,  the  pass  of  Keim-an-eigh,  and 
the  wild  and  singular  scenery  that  conducts  to 
or  surrounds  them,  the  traveller  must  diverge 
from  the  high-road,  and  pursue  a  route  that  leads 
only  *'  back  again,"  unless  he  is  prepared  to  tread 
over  mountains  where  the  goat  will  scarcely  find 
his  way  homewards  without  direction ;  and  to  en- 
counter the  perils  of  bogs  and  morasses  more 
numerous  than  cottages.  The  venturous  pe- 


176  IRELAND 

destrian,  however,  will  be  amply  repaid  for  the 
risk  and  labour  he  will  have  to  endure ;  for  in  no 
part  of  Ireland  has  Nature  been  left  more  com- 
pletely to  her  own  guidance  and  government. 

From  Macroom  to  Inchageela,  a  village  mid- 
way between  the  town  and  Gougane  Barra,  the 
road  becomes  gradually  wilder  and  more  rugged ; 
huge  rocks  overhang  it,  high  hills  look  down  upon 
them,  and  over  these  again  the  mountains  tower 
— each  and  all  clothed  with  purple  heath  and 
golden  furze,  and  other  plants  that  love  the  arid 
soil;  while  here  and  there  patches  of  cultivation 
have  been  snatched  from  them  by  the  hand  of  in- 
dustry and  toil;  and  from  many  a  small  fissure 
the  smoke  arises,  giving  token  that  civilization 
is  astir  even  in  this  region  of  savage  grandeur 
and  beauty. 

The  Lee,  which,  for  a  considerable  space,  has 
dwindled  to  a  small  murmuring  rivulet,  at  length 
widens  out  into  a  sheet  of  water,  forming  the 
picturesque  Lough  Allua — the  lake  of  the  Lee. 
The  road  winds  for  about  three  miles  along  its 
northern  margin ;  the  rocks  on  one  side,  the  clear 
and  deep  water  on  the  other — a  more  perfect 
solitude  it  is  impossible  to  imagine.  Not  a  tree 
is  to  be  seen;  but  the  rocks,  as  if  to  remedy  the 
defect,  have  assumed  forms  the  most  singular 
and  fantastic,  and,  every  now  and  then,  seem  to 
stay  the  further  progress  of  the  wayfarer,  by 
pushing  a  monstrous  base  directly  across  his 
path.  Yet  a  century  and  a  half  ago,  these  rocks 
and  hills,  as  well  as  the  valleys,  were  clothed  with 
forests  to  the  water's  edge;  in  their  fastnesses, 


CORK  177 

unfamiliar  with  the  step  of  man,  the  red  deer 
roved;  and  often  the  labourer  delves  out,  from 
a  patch  of  mountain  bog,  some  huge  trunk  that 
tells  of  the  former  occupiers  of  the  soil — exist- 
ing in  decay  many  feet  below  the  surface. 

The  approach  to  Gougane  Barra  is  now  suffi- 
ciently easy;  although,  a  hundred  years  ago,  a 
pilgrimage  of  two  miles  occupied  two  hours. 
Dr.  Smith  pathetically  describes  the  toil:  he 
calls  it  "  the  rudest  highway  that  ever  was  passed; 
a  well-spirited  beast  trembles  at  every  step; 
some  parts  of  the  road  lie  shelving  from  one  side 
to  the  other,  which  often  trips  up  a  horse;  other 
places  are  pointed  rocks,  standing  like  so  many 
sugar-loaves,  from  one  to  three  feet  high,  be- 
tween which  a  horse  much  take  time  to  place  and 
fix  his  feet." 

A  sudden  turning  in  the  road  brings  the  trav- 
eller within  view,  and  almost  over,  the  lake  of 
Gougane  Barra — a  scene  of  more  utter  loneli- 
ness, stern  grandeur,  or  savage  magnificence,  it 
is  difficult  to  conceive;  redeemed,  however,  as  all 
things  savage  are,  by  one  passage  of  gentle  and 
inviting  beauty,  upon  which  the  eye  turns  as  to 
a  spring-well  in  the  desert — the  little  island  with 
its  group  of  graceful  ash-trees  and  ruined  chapel. 
Down  from  the  surrounding  mountains  rush 
numerous  streams,  tributaries  to  the  lake,  that 
collects  and  sends  them  forth  in  a  bountiful  river 
— for  here  the  Lee  has  its  source — until  they  form 
the  noble  harbour  of  Cork,  and  lose  themselves 
in  the  broad  Atlantic.  In  summer  these  streams 

are  gentle  rills,  but  in  winter  foaming  cataracts; 
v— 12 


178  IRELAND 

rushing  over  ridges  of  projecting  rocks,  and  bar- 
ing them  even  of  the  lichen  that  strives  to  cling 
to  their  sides. 

When  the  traveller  stands  within  this  amphi- 
theatre of  hills,  he  feels,  as  it  were,  severed  from 
his  fellow-beings — as  if  imprisoned  for  ever;  for 
on  whichever  side  he  looks,  escape  from  the  valley 
seems  impossible;  "so  that  if  a  person,"  writes 
the  old  historian,  "  were  carried  into  it  blindfold, 
it  would  seem  almost  impossible,  without  the 
wings  of  an  eagle,  to  get  out — the  mountains 
forming,  as  it  were,  a  wall  of  rocks  some  hundred 
yards  high." 

The  small  island  is  nearly  midway  in  the  lake ; 
a  rude  artificial  causeway  leads  into  it  from  the 
main  land.  This  is  the  famous  hermitage  of  St. 
Fin  Bar,  who  is  said  to  have  lived  here  previous 
to  his  founding  the  cathedral  of  Cork.  It  is 
classed  among  the  "  holiest "  places  in  Ireland, 
and  has  long  been  a  favourite  resort  of  devotees, 
in  the  confident  expectation  that  its  consecrated 
waters  have  power  to  heal  all  kinds  of  diseases; 
making  the  blind  to  see,  the  deaf  to  hear,  and  the 
lame  to  walk.  Here,  at  certain  seasons,  they  as- 
semble in  immense  crowds — bringing  their  sick 
children  and  ailing  animals  to  bathe;  and  upon 
the  neighbouring  bushes  and  wooden  crosses 
hang  fragments  of  clothes,  or  halters  and  span- 
eels,  in  proof  that  to  the  various  animals,  biped 
and  quadruped,  the  lake  has  performed  the  an- 
ticipated miracle  of  making  them  whole. 

The  greater  portion  of  the  island  is  covered  by 
the  ruins  of  a  chapel  with  its  appurtenant  build- 


CORK  179 

ings,  and  a  large  court  or  cloister,  containing 
eight  arched  cells.  A  spot  better  fitted  for 
gloomy  anchorite  or  stern  ascetic,  who  desired 
perfect  seclusion  from 

"  the  cheerful  haunt  of  man  and  herds," 

it  would  be  hard  to  find;  but  here,  too,  undoubt- 
edly, study  might  have  prepared  the  early  Chris- 
tian missionary  for  the  "  labour  of  love  "  he  was 
called  upon  to  undertake. 

To  describe  the  romantic  grandeur  of  the  scene 
is  indeed  impossible,  without  calling  poetry  to 
our  aid.  It  has  been  rendered  so  happily  and  so 
effectually,  that  we  do  not  hesitate  to  quote  the 
composition  entire : — 

"  There  is  a  green  island  in  lone  Gougane  Barra, 
Where  Allu  of  songs  rushes  forth  like  an  arrow ; 
In  deep-valley'd  Desmond  a  thousand  wild  fountains 
Come  down  to  that  lake,  from  their  home  in  the  mountains. 
There  grows  the  wild  ash ;  and  a  time-stricken  willow 
Looks  chidingly  down  on  the  mirth  of  the  billow, 
As  like  some  gay  child  that  sad  monitor  scorning, 
It  lightly  laughs  back  to  the  laugh  of  the  morning. 

"  And  its  zone  of  dark  hills — oh !  to  see  them  all  brighten- 
ing, 

When  the  tempest  flings  out  his  red  banner  of  lightning, 
And  the  waters  come  down  'mid  the  thunder's  deep  rattle, 
Like  clans  from  their  hills  at  the  voice  of  the  battle ; 
And  brightly  the  fire-crested  billows  are  gleaming, 
And  wildly  from  Malloc  the  eagles  are  screaming: 
Oh,  where  is  the  dwelling,  in  valley  or  highland, 
So  meet  for  a  bard  as  that  lone  little  island ! 

"  How  oft,  when  the  summer  sun  rested  on  Clara, 
And  lit  the  blue  headland  of  sullen  Ivera, 


180  IRELAND 

Have  I  sought  thee,  sweet  spot!  from  my  home  by  the 

ocean, 

And  trod  all  thy  wilds  with  a  minstrel's  devotion, 
And  thought  on  the  bards  who,  oft  gathering  together, 
In  the  cleft  of  thy  rocks,  and  the  depth  of  thy  heather, 
Dwelt  far  from  the  Saxon's  dark  bondage  and  slaughter, 
As  they  raised  their  last  song  by  the  rush  of  thy  water. 

"  High  sons  of  the  lyre !  oh,  how  proud  was  the  feeling 
To  dream  while  alone  through  that  solitude  stealing; 
Though  loftier  minstrels  green  Erin  can  number, 
I  alone  waked  the  strain  of  her  harp  from  its  slumber, 
And  gleaned  the  grey  legend  that  long  had  been  sleeping 
Where  oblivion's  dull  mist  o'er  its  beauty  was  creeping, 
From  the  love  which  I  felt  for  my  country's  sad  story, 
When  to  love  her  was  shame,  to  revile  her  was  glory. 

"  Last  bard  of  the  free !  were  it  mine  to  inherit 
The  fire  of  thy  harp  and  the  wing  of  thy  spirit, 
With  the  wrongs  which  like  thee  to  my  own  land  have 

bound  me, 

Did  your  mantle  of  song  throw  its  radiance  around  me: 
Yet,  yet  on  those  bold  cliffs  might  Liberty  rally, 
And  abroad  send  her  cry  o'er  the  sleep  of  each  valley. 
But  rouse  thee,  vain  dreamer !  no  fond  fancy  cherish, 
Thy  vision  of  Freedom  in  bloodshed  must  perish. 

"  I  soon  shall  be  gone — though  my  name  may  be  spoken 
When  Erin  awakes,  and  her  fetters  are  broken — 
Some  minstrel  will  come  in  the  summer  eve's  gleaming, 
When  Freedom's  young  light  on  his  spirit  is  beaming, 
To  bend  o'er  my  grave  with  a  tear  of  emotion, 
Where  calm  Avonbuee  seeks  the  kisses  of  ocean, 
And  a  wild  wreath  to  plant  from  the  bank  of  the  river 
O'er  the  heart  and  the  harp  that  are  silent  for  ever."  48 

The  sacred  character  of  Gougane  Barra  has, 
it  is  said,  preserved  it  from  the  pest  of  so  many 
Irish  lakes — the  monster  worm  or  enchanted  eel. 
We  have  heard  stories  of  them  in  abundance ;  and 


CORK  181 

have  "  seen  the  man  who  has  seen  "  the  meta- 
morphosed demon  that  infests  the  little  lough 
on  the  top  of  Mount  Gabriel — it  is  "  deeper  than 
did  ever  plummet  sound;  "  yet  not  so  deep  but 
that  it  supplies  a  home  to  one  of  these  "  things 
horrible."  Often,  but  always  at  night,  the 
hideous  head  of  the  serpent  is  raised  above  the 
surface  of  the  water;  and  if  a  cow  be  missing 
from  some  neighbouring  herd,  there  is  no  dif- 
ficulty in  ascertaining  its  fate — it  has  been  made 
a  "  toothful  for  the  ould  enemy."  In  ancient 
times,  indeed,  the  blessed  isle  of  St.  Fin  Bar  was 
subjected  to  the  visits  of  such  an  intruder;  who 
having  been  guilty  of  the  imprudence  and  impu- 
dence of  snatching,  from  the  very  hand  of  the 
officiating  priest,  the  loneen — a  vessel  for  holding 
holy  water — as  he  was  in  the  act  of  sprinkling 
with  it  a  crowd  of  devotees,  witnesses  of  the 
sacrilegious  act,  he  was  expelled  the  neighbour- 
hood for  his  wickedness,  and  has  never  since 
ventured  to  leave  his  loathsome  slime  upon  the 
green  banks  of  the  lake. 

The  pass  of  Keim-an-eigh  (the  path  of  the 
deer)  lies  to  the  south-west  of  Inchageela,  in  the 
direction  of  Bantry  Bay.  The  tourist  will  com- 
mit a  grievous  error  if  he  omit  to  visit  it.  Per- 
haps in  no  part  of  the  kingdom  is  there  to  be 
found  a  place  so  utterly  desolate  and  gloomy. 
A  mountain  has  been  divided  by  some  convulsion 
of  nature;  and  the  narrow  pass,  about  two  miles 
in  length,  is  overhung  on  either  side  by  perpen- 
dicular masses  clothed  in  wild  ivy  and  under- 
wood, with,  occasionally,  a  stunted  yew-tree  or 


182  IRELAND 

arbutus  growing  among  them.  At  every  step 
advance  seems  impossible — some  huge  rock 
jutting  out  into  the  path;  and,  on  sweeping 
round  it,  seeming  to  conduct  only  to  some  bar- 
rier still  more  insurmountable,  while  from  all 
sides  rush  down  the  "  wild  fountains,"  and,  form- 
ing for  themselves  a  rugged  channel,  make  their 
way  onward — the  first  tributary  offering  to  the 
gentle  and  fruitful  Lee: 

"  Here,  amidst  heaps 

Of  mountain  wrecks,  on  either  side  thrown  high, 
The  wide-spread  traces  of  its  watery  might, 
The  tortuous  channel  wound." 

Nowhere  has  Nature  assumed  a  more  appalling 
aspect,  or  manifested  a  more  stern  resolve  to  dwell 
in  her  own  loneliness  and  grandeur,  undisturbed 
by  any  living  thing — for  even  the  birds  seem  to 
shun  a  solitude  so  awful;  and  the  hum  of  bee  or 
chirp  of  grasshopper  is  never  heard  within  its 
precincts. 

Protected  by  these  fortresses  of  rocks,  ages 
ago,  the  outlawed  O'Sullivans  and  O'Learys 
kept  their  freedom,  and  laughed  to  scorn  the 
sword  and  fetter  of  the  Saxon;  and  from  these 
"  mountains  inaccessible  "  they  made  occasional 
sallies,  avenging  themselves  upon,  and  bearing 
off  the  flocks  and  heads  of,  the  stranger.  As 
may  be  expected,  in  modern  times,  these  rocky 
fastnesses  have  given  shelter,  often,  to  bands  of 
lawless  or  disaffected  men:  here,  in  some  deep 
dell,  might  have  been  detected  the  light  curl  of 
smoke  issuing  from  the  roof  of  some  illicit  still- 


CORK  183 

cabin,  to  disturb  the  inmates  of  which  would  have 
required  a  very  strong  force  of  the  revenue; 
among  these  rocks,  too,  the  smugglers  had  many 
a  cave,  in  which  they  deposited  their  goods  until 
suspicion  had  been  lulled  on  the  highways,  so 
that  they  might  be  conveyed  in  safety  to  the 
neighbouring  towns.  And  here,  too,  men  who 
had  set  themselves  in  battle  array  against  the  law, 
have  often  met  to  arrange  their  plans  for  carry- 
ing destruction  into  the  adjoining  valleys.  In 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  pass,  there  was  a 
stronghold  of  the  Rockites,  during  the  disturb- 
ances of  1822.  The  subject  of  these  agrarian 
bands,  united  under  a  score  of  names,  is  one  of 
much  interest  and  importance,  and  will  form  a 
topic  for  discussion  hereafter,  when  we  visit 
Tipperary;  we  may,  however,  detain  the  reader 
while  we  relate  an  incident  borrowed,  partly 
from  the  Rev.  Caesar  Otway's  "  Sketches  in  Ire- 
land," and  partly  gathered  from  the  relation  of 
the  aged  man  we  encountered  at  Bantry,  who 
was  an  actor  in  the  drama,  and  who  lay  for  many 
days,  wounded,  among  the  hills,  having  been  in- 
jured by  an  accidental  shot  fired  by  one  of  his 
own  party. 

Several  hundreds  of  the  peasantry  were  sworn 
to  obey  an  unknown  Captain  Rock;  for  their 
leaders  professed  to  receive  their  orders  from  a 
person  who  made  his  appearance  only  when  some 
work  of  more  than  common  peril  and  difficulty 
was  to  be  performed.  The  pass  of  Keim-an-eigh 
was  their  place  of  rendezvous,  from  whence  they 
made  their  visits  to  the  houses  of  the  gentry  for 


184  IRELAND 

many  miles  around,  demanding  arms,  and  leav- 
ing directions  as  regarded  the  persons  to  be  em- 
ployed and  the  rent  to  be  paid;  which  it  was 
dangerous  to  disobey,  and  which  were,  at  times, 
accompanied  by  the  significant  hint  of  a  grave  dug 
at  the  hall-door,  or  beneath  the  window,  of  the 
party  to  whom  instructions  were  addressed  as  to 
his  future  conduct.  The  evil  at  length  spread  so 
widely  and  became  so  intolerable,  that  the  neigh- 
bouring gentry  combined  to  suppress  it.  Lord 
Bantry,  his  brother,  Captain  White,  and  about 
forty  mounted  gentlemen,  accompanied  by  a 
party  of  the  39th  Foot,  undertook  the  dangerous 
task  of  pursuing  the  outlaws  into  the  recesses  of 
their  mountains.  They  arrived  at  the  pass  we 
have  described;  but  the  officer  who  commanded 
the  military  refused  to  proceed  further  with  so 
small  a  force,  and  left  his  lordship  and  his  com- 
panions to  make  their  way  through  the  defile,  re- 
maining at  its  entrance  to  cover  their  retreat. 
They  rode  through  it,  round  the  lake  of  Gougane 
Barra,  and  into  the  village  of  Inchageela — which 
they  found  deserted  by  all  the  men,  who  had 
joined  their  associates,  and  were  in  arms  among 
the  hills.  During  their  ride,  however,  the  party 
had  given  token  of  the  nature  of  their  mission, 
and  had  killed  one  man,  who,  having  mistaken 
them  for  his  own  friends,  had  ascended  a  bank 
and  hurraed  for  Captain  Rock.  He  was  shot 
instantly — and  his  body  was  a  few  minutes  after- 
wards discovered  by  his  exasperated  comrades, 
who  swore,  over  it,  to  take  ample  vengeance. 
Having  failed  to  arrest  any  of  the  persons 


CORK  185 

against  whom  they  had  informations,  the  gentry 
commenced  their  ride  back  to  Bantry,  through 
the  pass;  and  by  this  time  the  evening  twilight 
was  becoming  dark  and  darker. 

Meantime,  the  insurgents  had  not  been  idle; 
their  captain — who  he  was  has  never  been  clearly 
ascertained,  but  it  is  certain  that  he  belonged  to 
the  better  order  of  society  49  had  noted  the  sep- 
aration of  the  mounted  gentry  from  the  soldiers, 
and  guessed  that  in  an  hour  or  two  they  would 
return  through  the  pass.  He  at  once  issued 
instructions  to  his  men  to  loosen  a  huge  rock  that 
overhung  the  narrow  road;  at  a  signal  agreed 
upon,  it  was  to  be  flung  from  its  place  so  effectu- 
ally to  block  up  the  passage,  and,  if  possible,  to 
crush  some  of  the  party  by  its  fall.  The  design 
was  then  to  rush  upon  them  with  stones  and 
pitchforks;  several  who  had  guns  remaining  in 
the  rear  to  shoot  them  as  soon  as  they  were 
scattered;  and  afterwards  to  wait  the  ap- 
proach of  the  soldiers,  who  would  no  doubt  be 
thus  drawn  from  the  open  ground  in  which  they 
had  bivouacked.  So  shrewdly  was  the  plan  laid, 
that  the  destruction  of  the  party  appeared  in- 
evitable. 

On  they  came,  at  a  slow  trot,  cautious  and 
fully  conscious  that  they  were  in  the  midst  of 
peril;  the  rock  was  nearly  in  the  middle  of  the 
pass,  and  they  were  rapidly  nearing  it,  yet  no 
human  enemy  was  seen,  and  not  a  sound  indica- 
tive of  danger  was  heard;  when  an  old  man  of 
the  Mahonys  looked  down  from  a  cranny  in  the 
mountain,  and  saw  Lord  Bantry  and  his  troop 


186  IRELAND 

in  the  path  beneath  him.  We  now  borrow  a 
passage  from  Mr.  Otway:  "This  poor  fellow 
had  once  two  sons,  the  pride  of  his  name  and 
the  consolation  of  his  descending  years;  active, 
honest,  and  industrious,  but  alas!  seduced  into 
the  Rock  system.  Their  house  near  Gougane 
Barra  was  searched  under  the  Insurrection  Act, 
and  arms  and  ammunition  being  found  concealed, 
they  were  tried  at  Bantry  and  sentenced  to  be 
transported,  which  sentence  was  put  into  instant 
execution,  and  their  aged  parents  were  left  deso- 
late and  destitute ;  the  mother  wept  her  life  away, 
and  her  grey  hairs  descended  in  sorrow  to  the 
grave;  the  father  joined  the  rising,  and  cared  not 
how  he  died."  The  old  man,  under  the  excite- 
ment of  the  moment,  screamed  a  bitter  curse 
against  those  who  had  made  him  childless,  and 
flung  a  huge  stone  at  them  as  they  passed;  it 
struck  and  wounded  the  horse  of  Lord  Bantry. 
One  of  the  party  instantly  fired  his  pistol  at  the 
aged  man,  whose  body  came  tumbling  down  the 
precipice,  and  fell  a  lifeless  corpse  upon  the  path. 
In  a  moment,  every  crevice  of  every  rock  sent 
forth  a  living  man  to  avenge  the  deed;  a  crowd 
came  rushing  and  yelling  down  the  mountain 
sides;  the  mounted  gentlemen  spurred  their 
horses  into  a  fierce  gallop;  a  minute  was  thus 
gained — and  it  was  enough;  the  rock  fell  the 
instant  the  last  of  the  party  had  passed  uninjured 
beyond  its  reach,  and  just  in  time  to  bar  the  pur- 
suit of  the  exasperated  peasantry. 

Another  generation  must  be  removed,   both 
from  the  gentry  and  the  people,  before  the  pass 


CORK  187 

of  Keim-an-eigh  and  this  striking  incident  in  its 
history  will  be  forgotten. 

Still  nearer  to  Bantry,  and  still  among  the 
wild  and  almost  trackless  wastes,  is  the  mountain 
of  the  Priest's  Leap  50 — formerly  the  principal 
line  of  communication  between  the  two  most  pic- 
turesque portions  of  Irish  scenery,  Glengariff 
and  Killarney,  but  now  abandoned  for  one  of  the 
best  roads  in  the  kingdom.  Besides  considerably 
abridging  the  distance  between  them,  this  old 
road  possesses  to  perfection  the  characteristics  of 
the  fine  old  vigorous  and  uncompromising  sys- 
tem of  road-making,  now  exploded,  that  was  ob- 
servant only  of  the  straightest  line  of  access — 
following  as  nearly  as  possible  the  flight  of  the 
bird — regardless  alike  of  acclivity  or  declivity,  of 
cliff  or  crag,  of  stream  or  torrent.51  In  this  re- 
spect the  Priest's  Leap  road  offers  to  every 
student  of  the  ancient  mystery  of  road-making 
the  fairest  subject  for  inquiry  and  contempla- 
tion; nothing  can  be  more  direct  than  its  up-hill 
flights,  or  more  decided  and  unswerving  than  its 
downward  progressions;  no  mountain  elevation, 
however  bristling  with  crags,  or  formidable  the 
aspect  of  its  precipitous  sides,  deterred  the  stern 
and  uncompromising  engineer  who  laid  it  down. 
He  carried  it  over  the  loftiest  summits,  the  wild- 
est moors,  at  the  bottoms  of  the  most  desolate 
glens,  and  along  the  most  dizzy  steeps,  overlook- 
ing the  deepest  dells.  A  savage-looking  defile 
is  sometimes  made  available  as  a  conduit  for  every 
ferocious  breeze  that  loves  to  howl  and  sweep 
along  such  localities;  and  the  loneliness  of  many 


188  IRELAND 

of  the  scenes  is  emphatically  marked  by  the  sig- 
nificant "  leacht,"  or  stone-heap,  that  points  out 
the  spot  where,  in  other  times,  some  solitary 
traveller  met  his  fate  from  the  way-side  plun- 
derer. Such  alarming  "  hints "  are  now,  in- 
deed, rare ;  and,  of  later  years,  the  record  of  acts 
of  violence,  committed  in  the  security  of  these 
seldom-trodden  paths,  is  a  barren  one.  The 
heaps  of  stones,  to  indicate  where  deeds  of  mur- 
der have  been  done,  still  remain,  however ;  and  to 
the  present  day  the  peasant  discharges  what  he 
considers  his  solemn  duty  by  flinging,  as  he 
walks  or  rides  by,  a  contribution  to  the  mass. 

To  the  lover  of  the  wild,  the  picturesque,  and 
the  romantic,  we  recommend  this  road  for  his 
special  enjoyment.  Glorious  is  its  scenery  over 
mountain  and  through  glen.  The  broad  bay  of 
Bantry  is  glistening  far  beneath,  and  the  blue 
shores  of  Ivera  and  Bear  in  the  distance,  are 
noble  features  in  the  majestic  panorama.  Nor 
has  the  voice  of  tradition  failed,  or  become  silent, 
among  these  hills ;  many  a  wild  legend  and  whim- 
sical fiction  may  be  gathered,  by  a  little  kindness, 
from  their  shrewd,  inquisitive,  and  really  imagi- 
native, inhabitants. 

Nearly  midway  in  the  course  of  the  mountain- 
road  stand  the  ruins  of  one  of  those  small  ancient 
churches,  whose  era,  from  their  style — the  Ro- 
manesque— must  be  placed  between  the  fifth  and 
eleventh  centuries.  A  portion  of  the  walls  only 
remains.  The  stones  are  large  and  Cyclopean, 
curiously  jointed  and  well  fashioned.  We  were 
told  that  it  is  "  one  of  the  first  churches  called  at 


CORK  189 

Rome  " — a  traditional  record  of  its  high  antiqui- 
ty. Outside  the  burial-ground  is  a  perfect  curios- 
ity ; — a  natural  rock  of  a  tabular  form  with  five 
basin-like  hollows  on  the  surface,  of  four  or  five 
inches  in  depth,  and  about  a  foot  in  diameter. 
These  are  severally  filled  with  water,  and  in  each 
is  a  stone  of  a  long  oval  form  fitting  the  space 
fully.  The  whole  forms  a  petrified  dairy — the 
basins  being  the  "  keelers,"  the  ovals  the  rolls  of 
butter. 

The  history  of  this  strange  monument  is  that, 
in  ancient  times,  a  woman  lived  here  who,  not 
respecting  the  commandment  against  thieving,  at 
night  milked  the  cows  of  her  neighbours,  and 
transferred  the  milk  as  well  as  the  butter  to  her 
own  dairy.  Suspected  at  length,  the  hue-and- 
cry  was  raised  against  her,  and  Saint  Fiachna, 
who  led  a  holy  life  at  the  church  we  have  referred 
to,  resolved  to  punish  the  culprit.  He  mounted 
his  horse  to  visit  her,  but  she  fled.  The  Saint  as 
he  passed  turned  her  dairy  to  stone,  and  then  de- 
scended the  hill  towards  the  river  in  pursuit  of 
her.  In  crossing  the  stream  his  horse  left  his 
hoof -marks  on  a  stone  in  the  centre  of  it ;  this  we 
did  not  choose  to  wet  ourselves  to  look  at,  but  we 
were  assured  by  several  that  it  was  there.  He 
then  drove  up  the  opposite  hill-side,  where,  about 
midway,  he  overtook  the  criminal  of  whom  he 
was  in  chase,  and  instantly  turned  her  into  stone; 
and  there  she  still  stands,  the  Irish  "  Lot's  Wife," 
not,  however,  a  pillar  of  salt,  but  a  goodly  dallan 
of  six  feet  in  height;  yet  still  holding  a  resem- 
blance to  the  original  lady.  The  tree  beside  it 


190  IRELAND 

grew  out  of  the  "  kippin  "  of  the  spancel  which 
she  carried  in  her  hand,  and  with  which  she  was 
accustomed  to  tie  the  cows'  legs  at  milking.  And 
what  a  goodly  picture  it  now  makes  as  a  bloom- 
ing hawthorn!  It  is  a  singular  and  striking 
object,  standing  as  it  does  in  the  midst  of  a  moun- 
tain solitude. 

We  must  now  reconduct  the  reader  to  Cork, 
in  order  that  we  may  be  his  guide  to  the  county 
of  Kerry,  along  the  sea-coast,  through  Bantry 
and  Glengariff. 

The  port  of  Kinsale,  although  not  in  the  direct 
route,  may  be  visited  in  the  way;  the  town  is  ex- 
ceedingly interesting,  and  as,  for  a  very  consider- 
able period,  it  was  the  most  celebrated  and  fre- 
quented of  the  southern  harbours  of  Ireland — 
taking  precedence  of  that  of  Cork — it  occupies  a 
full  and  prominent  page  in  Irish  history. 

The  road  from  Cork — a  distance  of  nineteen 
English  miles — has  little  to  interest  the  traveller; 
but  on  either  side  the  mountain-hills  are  richly 
cultivated ;  the  fields  of  green  and  brown  alterna- 
ting like  a  chess-board,  very  few,  even  at  the  high- 
est summits,  being  without  some  cultivated 
patches.  The  town  is  seen  to  great  advantage 
from  this  approach.  It  is  built  on  the  side  of 
a  hill;  its  character  is  peculiarly  quaint;  the 
streets  are  remarkably  narrow;  and  many  of  the 
houses  have  projecting  windows  like  those  of  the 
Spaniards ;  by  whom  some  of  them  were  probably 
built.52  The  population  is  about  eight  thousand. 
The  charter  of  incorporation  is  so  early  as  Ed- 


CORK  191 

ward  III.  Kinsale  gives  the  title  of  Baron  to 
the  De  Courcys,  the  descendants  of  Milo  de 
Courcy,  son  of  John,  Earl  of  Ulster;  and  the 
Lords  Kingsale  enjoy  the  exclusive,  although 
vain  and  useless,  privilege  of  being  covered  in  the 
royal  presence — a  privilege  granted  by  King 
John  to  the  Earl  of  Ulster.  Lord  Kingsale  is 
the  premier  Baron  of  Ireland.53 

It  would  occupy  far  more  space  than  we  can 
afford,  to  give  even  an  outline  of  the  sieges  to 
which  the  town  has  been  subjected  from  a  very 
early  period — from  the  first  English  invasion  to 
the  Revolution  of  1688.  It  was  several  times  in 
the  occupation  of  the  Spaniards;  who  had  pos- 
session of  it  so  far  back  as  1380 ;  and  who,  in  1601, 
having  been  largely  aided  by  O'Neill  and  other 
Irish  chieftains,  kept  at  bay  for  a  considerable 
time  the  English  army,  under  the  Lord  Presi- 
dent Sir  George  Carew. 

On  the  12th  of  March  1689,  James  II.  landed 
in  Kinsale  (the  house  in  which  he  slept  is  still 
pointed  out),  and  then  commenced  the  struggle 
to  regain  the  throne  he  had  abdicated.  In  1690, 
it  was  taken  by  the  Duke  of  Marlborough — after 
a  gallant  defence,  however,  when  the  garrison  was 
allowed  to  march  out  "  upon  honourable  condi- 
tions." 

The  parish  church  is  dedicated  to  a  female  saint 
— St.  Multose  or  Multosia,  by  whom  it  is  said  to 
have  been  erected  in  the  fourteenth  century. 

A  legend  is  told  in  connection  with  it. — When 
the  Saint  was  building  it,  which  she  did  with  her 
own  hands,  she  desired  to  place  a  large  stone,  too 


192  IRELAND 

heavy  for  her  to  lift.  Seeing  two  men  passing, 
one  a  native  of  the  town,  the  other  a  stranger  to 
it,  she  summoned  them  to  her  aid;  the  native  re- 
fused to  help  her,  but  the  stranger  laboured  until 
her  object  was  effected.  Upon  which  she  gave 
her  blessing  to  the  one,  and  left  her  curse  with  the 
other.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  and  one  that  does 
not  depend  upon  the  authority  of  tradition,  that, 
generally,  when  two  inhabitants  of  the  town 
marry,  they  will  not  go  through  the  ceremony 
within  the  walls  of  St.  Multose,  but  are  "  united  " 
at  some  church  in  the  neighbourhood;  and  we 
were  supplied  with  proofs  in  support  of  the 
legend,  by  references  to  several  unlucky  couples 
who  had  been  so  unwisely  sceptical  as  to  neglect 
the  ancient  warning. 

The  harbour  of  Kinsale,  although  greatly  in- 
ferior to  that  of  Cork,  is  capacious,  deep,  and 
well-sheltered.  It  is  defended  by  a  strong  fort, 
called  Charles-Fort,  so  called  in  honour  of  Charles 
II.,  and  erected  by  the  Duke  of  Ormond  in 
1681.54 

The  "  Old  Head,"  the  point  nearest  the  sea, 
has  a  light-house,  and  has  long  been  a  famous 
landmark  for  mariners.  Although,  for  upwards 
of  a  century,  Kinsale  has  ceased  to  occupy  a  very 
prominent  station  among  the  harbours  of  Ireland, 
and  has  lost  its  commercial  importance,  it  is  still 
a  flourishing  town;  its  prosperity  being  sus- 
tained, chiefly,  by  its  facilities  for  fishing — the 
Cork  markets  being  almost  exclusively  supplied 
from  it — the  skill  of  its  ship  and  boat  builders, 
and  by  its  convenience  as  an  outlet  for  the  trans- 


CORK  193 

fer  of  cattle  to  England.  The  adjoining  coast 
is  unhappily  full  of  melancholy  relics  of  ship- 
wrecks; and  in  the  churchyard  are  numerous 
grave-stones  recording  merely  the  facts  of  bodies 
being  washed  on  shore  and  interred  there. 

The  road  from  Kinsale  to  Innishannon  passes 
along  the  banks  of  the  river  Bandon — according 
to  Spenser, 

"  The  pleasant  Bandon  crowned  by  many  a  wood." 

The  woods,  however,  have  long  since  fallen  under 
the  ruthless  axe  of  the  woodman.  About  midway 
to  Innishannon,  a  pretty  village  that  skirts  the 
clear  and  rapid  river,  is  the  ancient  castle  of  Ship- 
pool,  a  structure  erected  by  the  Roches;  and  be- 
tween Innishannon  and  Bandon,  is  the  castle  of 
Dundaneere  (or  Downdaniel) ,  which  stands  near 
the  confluence  of  the  rivers  Brinny  and  Bandon. 
It  is  stated  by  Dr.  Smith,  that  "  about  the  year 
1612,  the  East  India  Company  of  England  had 
a  settlement  here  for  carrying  on  ironworks,  and 
building  large  ships,  for  which  uses  they  pur- 
chased the  adjacent  lands  and  woods;  the  follow- 
ing year,  two  new  ships  of  five  hundred  tons  were 
launched,  and  a  dock  was  erected  for  building 
more ;  they  kept  a  garrison  in  the  castle,  and  built 
three  villages."  Unhappily  the  old  curse  of  Ire- 
land— jealousy  of  "the  stranger" — prevailed; 
the  company  were  so  much  "  disturbed  in  their 
undertakings,"  and  such  was  the  "  implacable 
spirit  of  the  Irish  against  them,  that  by  contin- 
ually doing  them  several  ill  offices,  they  forced 

them  at  length  to  quit  the  country."     The  castle, 
v— is 


194  IRELAND 

is  now  a  complete  ruin,  but  one  of  the  most  strik- 
ing and  interesting  we  have  visited ;  it  commands 
a  charming  point  of  the  river;  the  surrounding 
scenery  is  perfectly  beautiful,  and  the  neighbour- 
ing hills  are  covered  with  woods  and  villas.  The 
road  leads  along  the  banks  of  "  the  pleasant 
Bandon  "  the  whole  way  to  the  town  to  which  it 
gives  its  name.  It  was  formerly  called  Bandon- 
Bridge,  and  was  built  by  the  first  Earl  of  Cork; 
who,  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Secretary  Cook,  dated 
April  13,  1632,  describes  "  the  place  in  which  it 
is  situated,"  as  "  upon  a  great  district  of  the  coun- 
try that  was  until  lately  a  mere  waste  of  bog  and 
wood,  serving  for  a  retreat  and  harbour  to  wood- 
kernes,  rebels,  thieves,  and  wolves."  His  lord- 
ship adds,  as  the  strong  claim  of  Bandon  to  royal 
favour  and  protection,  that  "  no  popish  recusant, 
or  unconforming  novelist,  is  admitted  to  live  in 
all  the  town;"55  and  Smith,  so  late  as  1750, 
states  that  "  in  the  town  there  is  not  a  popish  in- 
habitant, nor  will  the  townsmen  suffer  one  to 
dwell  in  it,  nor  a  piper  to  play  in  the  place,  that 
being  the  music  formerly  used  by  the  Irish  in 
their  wars."  The  old  and  illiberal  system  has 
long  since  been  exploded;  the  bagpipes  are  now 
heard  as  frequently  in  Bandon  as  elsewhere ;  and 
among  its  dealers  and  chapmen  are  numerous 
descendants  of  the  Irish  Mac  Sweeneys  and 
O'Sullivan's;  and  the  Anglo-Irish  Cappingers 
and  Fitzgeralds.  The  town  is  of  considerable 
size,  populous  and  flourishing,  being  the  great 
thoroughfare  into  Carbery,  and  also  to  Killar- 
ney.  It  belongs,  partly  to  the  Duke  of  Devon- 


CORK  195 

shire,  and  partly  to  the  Earl  of  Bandon,  whose 
beautiful  seat,  Castle  Bernard,  is  in  its  imme- 
diate neighbourhood. 

From  Bandon  to  Bantry  there  are  two  roads : 
the  northern  and  nearest,  through  Ballyneen, 
Dunmanway,  and  Drimoleague ;  and  the  south- 
ern and  most  picturesque,  along  the  coast 
through  Clonakilty,  Ross-Carbery,  and  Skibbe- 
reen.  Ballyneen  and  Drimoleague  are  small 
villages;  Dunmanway  is  a  poor  town,  although 
the  only  one  in  a  very  large  district.  Emigra- 
tion has  drained  it  of  its  most  able-bodied  and  in- 
telligent inhabitants;  as  their  dwellings  remain 
tenantless,  and  an  Irish  cabin  is  never  worth 
pulling  down,  they  crumble  with  every  shower 
and  every  storm,  giving  to  the  scene  an  aspect 
of  extreme  dreariness  and  desolation.  Some- 
times they  are  overgrown  by  the  weed  called 
"  love  entangled,"  and  the  golden  stone-crop, 
rendering  them  what  artists  call  "  picturesque," 
which  comfortable  well-built  houses  seldom  are. 
We  noticed  a  thin  gaunt-looking  dog  wander- 
ing about  one  of  these  deserted  tenements,  and 
the  girl  of  our  little  inn  crossed  over  the  way 
to  give  him  a  bone,  which  the  creature  carried 
within  the  ruin.  "  The  poor  baste,"  said  Mary, 
"  belonged  to  those  who,  though  they  had  a  good 
heart  to  the  counthry,  war  forced  to  lave  it;  the 
dog  followed  them  for  certain  to  Cork,  but  I 
suppose  missed  them  there,  and  came  back  to 
die  in  the  ould  walls.  I  often  give  it  a  bit  for 
the  sake  of  them  that  owned  it,  though  it's  al- 
most a  sin,  where  the  same  bit  might.keep  a  child 


196  IRELAND 

from  starving."  "  And  who  '  owned  '  the  dog, 
Mary?  "  we  inquired;  Mary  blushed  and  turned 
to  arrange  the  fire.  She  had  wiped  the  tears 
from  her  eyes,  with  the  corner  of  her  apron,  be- 
fore she  looked  up  again. 

The  little  inn  at  Dunmanway  is  very  clean, 
and,  considering  all  things,  comfortable;  the 
landlord,  as  is  usual  at  country  inns,  walks  about 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  seeing,  and  hear- 
ing, and  talking,  evidently  desiring  to  be  thought 
anything  rather  than  an  innkeeper;  the  land- 
lady— but  with  the  exception  of  the  hostess  of 
the  Imperial  Hotel  in  Cork,  who  came  often  to 
inquire  if  all  things  in  her  well-managed  house 
pleased  us — with  that  solitary  exception — we  do 
not  recollect  seeing  a  landlady  anywhere.  We 
believe  that  both  landlords  and  landladies  are 
above  their  business;  a  circumstance  much  to  be 
regretted,  as  it  militates  against  their  own  pros- 
perity and  the  comfort  of  travellers,  who  spend 
hours  where,  if  the  menage  were  better,  they 
might  be  induced  to  spend  days.56  The  little 
maid  at  Dunmanway  did  her  best  certainly  to 
make  up  for  the  absence  of  her  mistress.  She 
was  the  model  of  a  cheerful  do-everything  sort 
of  girl,  that,  like  one  of  the  fairies  of  her  own 
mountains,  was  in  a  score  of  places  at  the  same 
moment.  She  would  make  a  fire  in  the  bed- 
room because  it  had  rained  in  the  morning,  and 
would  be  sure  to  rain  to-morrow.  She  was  afraid 
we'd  be  dull  in  such  a  poor  place,  and  brought 
us  an  old  volume  of  the  "  Hibernian  Magazine," 


CORK  197 

which,  like  all  the  numbers  of  that  periodical, 
contained  an  abundance  of  everything  that  had 
no  reference  to  Ireland.  In  about  half  an  hour 
she  popped  in  her  sunny  face  again,  and  finding 
that  we  noted  a  female  pedlar  standing  on  the 
elevated  steps  that  surrounded  the  pump,  dis- 
playing her  "  soft  goods,"  i.  e.  calicoes  and  cot- 
tons, with  sundry  gaudy  ribands,  to  the  loiterers, 
rather  than  purchasers,  who  crowded  round,  she 
volunteered  a  story  of  how  that  same  "  chate  " 
had  sold  her  a  crooked  comb,  for  which  she  paid 
sevenpence  halfpenny;  and  how  the  same 
crooked  comb  broke  "  fair  off  in  three  halves,  the 
first  minute  she  put  it  in  her  hair ;  "  which  caused 
us  little  astonishment,  as  she  had  a  sufficient 
quantity  to  adorn  three  maidens  with  luxuriant 
tresses.  She  was  lady's  maid  to  "  the  mistress," 
child's  maid  to  the  children,  "  waitress  "  to  the 
whole  establishment,  and,  as  she  said,  "  every- 
thing but  the  boy  that  minded  the  horses  and 
claned  the  shoes."  That,  in  addition  to  her  be- 
ing cheerful  and  active,  Mary  of  Dunmanway 
was  ready-witted,  a  single  anecdote  will  prove. 
The  inn,  certainly,  was  very  clean,  having  been 
newly  painted;  and  the  little  drawing-room  was 
enriched  by,  as  she  called  it,  a  bran-new  Kitter- 
minister  carpet ;  "  but  notwithstanding,  a  par- 
ticularly active  little  insect  left  undeniable 
proofs  of  its  propensities  upon  our  wrist — two 
large  red  spots.  "  Mary,"  we  said,  "  look  here 
— this  is  really  too  bad."  She  looked  with 
feigned  or  unfeigned  astonishment — it  was  diffi- 


198  IRELAND 

cult  to  say  which — and  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of 
mingled  anger  and  repugnance,  "  Why,  then, 
bad  luck  to  the  dirty  bastes  at  the  house  ye  slept 
last  in" 

On  the  road  to  Bantry,  we  sent  our  car  for- 
ward, and  loitered  to  look  upon  a  fair  landscape 
— our  "  idle  time  not  idly  spent " — and  were 
somewhat  wearied,  for 

"  These  high  wild  hills  and  rough  uneven  ways 
Draw  out  our  miles/' 

when  we  heard  the  notes  of  an  old  Irish  song  as- 
cend from  the  bank  of  a  small  mountain  rivu- 
let.57 We  paused  to  listen,  for  the  air  we  heard 
was  as  the  greeting  of  an  old  friend — but  the 
singer's  mood  changed — the  song  ceased,  and  in- 
stead of  its  music  a  loud  peal  of  merry  laughter 
— earnest,  and  full,  and  joyous,  ascended  with 
the  whistle  of  a  blackbird  from  the  little  glen. 
Presently,  we  heard  a  plashing  of  the  waters — 
then  more  laughter.  Anon,  the  sound  of  young 
girls'  voices  in  cheerful  converse.  "  Peggy,  lave 
off  yer  tricks  do,  and  mind  yer  work;  lave  off,  I 
say.  Faix,  for  one  stroke  ye  give  the  linen  ye 
hit  the  wather  twice,  which  is  a  shame.  My  hair 
is  wringing  wet,  so  it  is,  wid  yer  nonsense." 
'  Yarra,  Nancy !  there's  no  life  left  in  ye,  since  I 
know  who  went  to  Austrailee.  Why  then,  I 
wonder  do  they  be  beetling  the  linen  there — 
this  a-way?  "  "  Not  that  a- way,  I'm  certain," 
answered  Nancy,  who  we  now  perceived  was 
"  drawing "  some  linen  through  the  stream, 
while  the  lively  Peggy  stood  with  the  wooden 


CORK  199 

instrument  called  a  "  beetle "  uplifted  in  her 
hand  ready  to  strike  the  linen — a  mode  of  wash- 
ing called  "  beetling,"  which  certainly  purifies  it 
more  than  any  way  of  "  getting  up "  with 
which  we  are  acquainted.  A  "  beetling  stone  " 
of  ample  dimensions  was  firmly  based  in  the 
brook  at  her  feet,  and  upon  it  the  clothes  of  the 
neighbouring  hamlet  had  doubtless  been  sub- 
jected to  such  ablutions  time  out  of  mind. 
"  That's  not  the  way  they  work  there,  I'm  sure," 
persisted  Nancy.  "  Why  for  oust  you  strike 
the  linen,  you  strike  the  wather  ten  times.  I 
hope,  Peggy  agra,  you'll  make  a  better  offer  at 

yer    bachelor's    heart    than    you    do    at ." 

"  Whisht,  Nancy — will  ye  whisht !  "  exclaimed 
Peggy,  having  discovered  that  we  were  observ- 
ing them.  "  Where's  yer  manners  to  the  strange 
quality?  "  and  the  girls  began  a  series  of  blushes 
and  curtsies,  wound  up  by  an  invitation  to  rest 
at  their  house,  though  but  a  poor  place,  as 
"  Maybe  we  war  tired  coming  over  the  back  of 
the  hill  that  was  so  cruel  steep."  We  were  too 
hurried  to  accept  a  courtesy  that  has  often  af- 
forded us  much  pleasure,  as  well  as  great  insight 
into  the  genuine  feelings  and  character  of  the 
Irish  peasant.  We  can  refer  to  the  knowledge 
acquired  by  long  and  close  observation,  and  de- 
clare that  we  never  left  the  cabin  of  a  genuine 
Irish  peasant,  without  having  our  opinion  raised 
as  to  the  materiel  which  composed  the  dwellers 
therein,  frequently  acknowledging — to  adopt  the 
beautiful  idea  of  Joanna  Baillie — that  they  were 

"  Clothed,  indeed,  but  not  disgraced,  with  rags." 


200  IRELAND 

Of  the  towns  on  the  southern  or  coast  road, 
Ross-Car bery  alone  demands  particular  notice; 
it  is  one  of  the  oldest  towns  in  Ireland;  the  an- 
cient name  being  Ross-Alithri — "  the  field  of 
pilgrimage ;  "  and,  according  to  Hanmer,  "  There 
was  here  anciently  a  famous  university,  whereto 
resorted  all  the  south-west  part  of  Ireland  for 
learning  sake."  It  was  formerly  a  bishop's  see, 
but  was  united  with  that  of  Cork,  and,  recently, 
also  with  that  of  Cloyne. 

A  glance  at  the  map  of  the  county  of  Cork 
will  convey  some  idea  of  the  numerous  bays  and 
harbours  along  the  coast;  it  is  for  the  most  part 
exceedingly  wild  and  rugged;  for  miles  upon 
miles  there  is  not  a  single  tree  to  be  seen ;  but  the 
ocean  around  it  is  dotted  with  small  islands, 
against  which  the  breakers  dash  and  foam;  the 
peculiar  scenery  has  been  aptly  described  by 
Dean  Swift,  in  a  Latin  poem — "  Carberise 
Rupes  " 58 — from  which  the  following  passage 
is  translated: — 

"  With  hoarse  rebuff,  the  swelling  seas  rebound 
From  shore  to  shore;  the  rocks  return  the  sound. 
The  dreadful  murmur  heaven's  high  concave  cleaves, 
And  Neptune  shrinks  beneath  his  subject  waves; 
For  long  the  whirling  winds  and  beating  tides 
Had  scooped  a  vault  into  its  nether  sides; 
Now  yields  the  base,  the  summits  nod,  now  urge 
Their  headlong  course,  and  lash  the  sounding  surge." 

Not  only  the  number,  but  the  advantageous 
positions,  of  the  harbours  will  claim  attention; 
the  coast  from  Youghall  to  Bantry  is  indented 
by  at  least  twelve,  eight  of  which  are  perfectly 


CORK  201 

well  calculated  for  merchant  vessels  of  burthen, 
and  not  less  than  five  would  float  the  largest 
ships  in  the  British  Navy.  When  we  consider 
also  that  this  land  is  made,  at  its  southern  ex- 
tremity, by  vessels  from  either  hemisphere, 
bound  for  the  English  or  Irish  Channel,  their 
advantages  under  unfavourable  circumstances  of 
wind  or  weather  are  at  once  felt  to  be  striking 
and  important.  How  essential  to  the  commerce 
of  the  universe  is  that  little  headland  in  the  chart 
of  the  navigator — the  well-known  Cape  Clear, 
almost  as  necessary  to  the  reckoning  of  the  sea- 
man as  the  meridian  line  of  Greenwich!  It  does 
not  appear,  however,  that  the  multiplicity  of  ports 
has  contributed  much  to  the  wealth  or  prosperity 
of  this  part  of  the  kingdom ;  whether  the  fact  may 
be  attributed  to  want  of  public  spirit  or  capital, 
preventing  the  people  from  availing  themselves 
of  the  immense  resources  at  their  command,  or 
whether  it  must  be  referred  to  their  indolence 
and  ignorance,  is  a  matter  upon  which  we  do  not 
at  present  design  to  enter ;  although  "  the  Irish 
Fisheries  "  will,  hereafter,  necessarily  occupy  no 
inconsiderable  portion  of  our  attention.  It  is 
notorious  that  the  teeming  wealth  conveyed  by 
the  ocean  around  their  shores — easily  rendered 
as  productive  as  their  soil — is  neglected  by  the 
people,  who  cleave  to  old  prejudices  and  customs 
with  unaccountable  bigotry;  the  consequence  is, 
that  the  Irish  are  the  worst  fishermen  to  be  found 
anywhere;  and  that,  not  unfrequently,  even  the 
markets  of  large  towns  are  supplied  by  the  activ- 
ity and  industry  of  their  Scottish  neighbours — 


202  IRELAND 

the  fish  being  taken  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the 
Irish  strands.59  Habits  at  variance  with  science, 
forethought,  and  thrift,  unhappily  still  largely 
prevail,  and  the  people  have,  as  yet,  manifested 
no  inclination  to  improve  their  condition  by 
means  so  completely  within  their  reach.  This 
disheartening  fact  has  been  fully  exposed  by  the 
Committee  of  Inquiry  into  "  Deep  Sea  Fisher- 
ies." Would  that  their  Report  might  teach  wis- 
dom, and  rouse  some  true  patriot  to  apply  him- 
self to  the  task  of  directing  the  energies  of  the 
people  into  so  accessible,  valuable,  and  profit- 
able a  channel.60 

In  former  times,  when  temptations  to  illicit 
trade  were  great,  and  the  securities  against  de- 
tection comparatively  easy,  smuggling  was  car- 
ried on  to  a  large  extent  along  a  coast  so  favour- 
able for  it.  For  some  years  it  has  been  on  the 
decline,  and  it  is  now  nearly  abandoned.  We 
desire  permission  to  record  one  of  our  own  mem- 
ories in  association  with  this  coast.  In  the  im- 
mediate neighbourhood  of  Ross-Carbery,  about 
two-and-twenty  years  ago,  it  was  our  lot  to  spend 
a  few  weeks  at  the  house  of  a  gentleman — for 
such  he  was  by  birth,  education,  and  connexions, 
although  circumstances  had  unfortunately  se- 
duced him  into  the  practice  of  trading  with  Hol- 
land, and  importing  foreign  produce  without  the 
design  of  paying,  for  a  license  so  to  do,  any  duty 
to  the  crown.  His  residence,  a  large  and  hand- 
some building,  was  close  to  a  peculiarly  rugged, 
rocky,  and  wild  shore;  here,  for  a  considerable 
period  he  contrived,  by  the  assistance  of  a  nu- 


CORK  203 

merous  and  attached  tenantry,  to  elude  all  the 
watchfulness  of  the  excise,  who  practised  every 
art  to  entrap  him.  The  roads  from  the  sea-coast 
to  the  adjoining  towns  were  strictly  and  nar- 
rowly guarded;  yet,  by  night,  the  smuggled 
goods  generally  escaped  seizure,  and  very  often 
artifice  succeeded  by  day.  The  peasants  were 
usually  cunning  enough  to  baffle  the  excise  force ; 
and  often  managed  to  pass  safely  the  "  com- 
modity "  under  loads  of  turf  or  sand;  sometimes 
funeral  processions  were  seen  along  the  road, 
and,  of  course,  proceeded  without  scrutiny.  The 
coffins  were  filled  with  tobacco,  and  the  mourn- 
ers carried  loads  under  their  cloaks.  On  one 
occasion,  we  remember,  the  officers  were  com- 
pletely outwitted  by  a  man  who  lay  on  a  cart, 
apparently  in  all  the  agonies  of  a  contagious 
fever,  while  his  wife,  screeching  by  his  side,  was 
conveying  him  to  the  nearest  hospital.  A  few 
hours  afterwards,  both  were  seen  merrily  wend- 
ing homewards,  laughing  at  the  soldiers  whom 
they  had  balked  of  a  rich  prize. 

During  our  visit  at  the  house  we  have  referred 
to,  we  had  expressed  a  wish  to  be  present  on  some 
midnight  excursion  of  the  smugglers,  when  the 
most  hazardous  part  of  their  enterprise  was  per- 
formed— the  discharging  the  cargo  of  one  of 
their  vessels.  It  was  soon  gratified.  We  were 
roused  from  sleep  by  the  son  of  our  host,  with 
the  news  that  a  lugger  was  at  anchor  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood. We  hastened  to  accompany  him  to 
the  shore ;  in  doing  so,  we  had  to  tread  cautiously 
in  the  footsteps  of  our  guide,  through  dells  and 


204  IRELAND 

over  precipices,  which,  else,  would  have  been 
fatal  to  us.  On  the  heights  above,  and  over  one  of 
the  most  dangerous  passes,  a  number  of  the  peas- 
antry, men  and  women,  were  collected,  ready  to 
roll  down  immense  stones  on  any  intruder — from 
which  the  password  of  our  companion  alone  pre- 
served us.  The  night  was  dark;  yet  the  few 
stars  that  shone,  glimmering  from  a  clear  heaven, 
supplied  light  enough  to  excite  those  feelings  of 
awe  which  the  wildness  and  grandeur  of  the 
scene  could  not  have  failed  to  inspire  even  by 
day.  At  length  we  reached  the  small  and  nar- 
row beach,  where  preparations  had  been  made  to 
receive  the  cargo  of  the  lugger  that  was  lying-to 
in  the  offing.  A  long  range  of  rocks,  jutting  out 
into  the  sea,  concealed  her  from  a  revenue  cutter 
that  was  anchored  not  a  mile  distant;  while  the 
preventive  guard  had  its  station  on  the  other  side 
of  the  nearest  hill.  The  strand  was  literally 
covered  with  men  and  horses ;  about  twenty  boats, 
with  muffled  oars,  were  ready  for  the  signal  to 
put  out  to  the  ship;  the  most  intense  silence  pre- 
vailed, the  people  spoke  in  whispers,  and  the 
hoofs  of  the  horses  had  been  covered  with  straw. 
The  director  of  this  half -magic  scene,  whom  we 
had  seen  a  few  hours  previously,  laughing  with 
his  guests,  and  with  his  wonted  vivacity  and  hu- 
mour setting  the  table  in  a  roar,  was  now  seated 
in  the  cave  of  a  rock;  before  him  was  an  up- 
turned cart  covered  with  bank-notes.  He  was 
issuing  "  orders "  to  the  peasants,  who  sur- 
rounded him,  to  receive  tobacco,  tea,  or  geneva, 
from  the  boats  as  they  brought  supplies  from  the 


CORK  205 

ship;  for  almost  invariably  the  goods  were  dis- 
posed of  on  the  spot,  each  purchaser  bearing  his 
own  risk,  and  keeping  or  concealing  it  upon  his 
own  responsibility,  until  he  found  opportunities 
for  selling  it  to  the  dealers  in  the  towns.  Many 
of  the  peasants  were  armed!  and  it  was  evident, 
that  without  a  perilous  struggle  they  were  not 
likely  to  surrender  the  articles  they  were  paying 
for.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add,  that  many 
fatal  encounters  took  place  between  them  and 
the  revenue  officers;  and  that  the  consequences 
of  a  system  so  demoralizing  was  to  fill  the  crim- 
inal calendar  of  the  county.  A  few  minutes 
after  our  arrival  on  the  spot,  the  boats  left  the 
shore;  it  required  little  persuasion  to  induce  us 
to  embark  in  one  of  them.  We  were  soon  in  the 
lugger's  cabin,  and  formally  introduced  to  the 
captain,  who  had  prepared  refreshments  for  ex- 
pected visitors.  Some  two-and-twenty  years 
have  passed  since  then,  but  we  can  recall  his  form 
and  features  accurately.  He  was  the  very  oppo- 
site of  the  "  Dirk  Hatteraick  "  of  our  imagina- 
tion— a  small  man,  of  mild  exterior,  and  very 
courteous  in  his  manner.  Yet  resolute  and 
brave  he  certainly  was ;  his  step  was  firm  and  de- 
cided, and  his  eye  had  the  quick  and  determined 
glance  that  evidences  acquaintance  with  danger, 
and  indifference  to  it.  On  the  deck  all  was  bus- 
tle and  activity ;  yet  the  arrangements  were  made 
with  the  utmost  skill,  order,  and  precision. 
Each  boat  brought  several  large  stones,  neces- 
sary to  supply  ballast  as  the  cargo  lessened ;  and 
the  principal  boatman  delivered  bits  of  cards  to 


206  IRELAND 

the  number  of  the  bales  he  conveyed  to  shore. 
The  business  of  the  night  was  nearly  finished, 
and  the  boats  were  for  the  last  time  putting  off 
to  the  vessel,  and  were  half  way  towards  it,  when 
some  signal  of  alarm  was  given,  and  they  re- 
turned to  land. 

The  crew  had  been  resting  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  singing  with  a  careless  air;  but  their  voices 
were  lowered  and  their  words  half  smothered. 
They  were  evidently  a  motley  group,  composed 
of  the  hardy  and  the  desperate  of  various  nations 
— for  inquiries  as  to  the  cause  of  interruption 
were  made  in  many  languages.  Almost  the  in- 
stant the  alarm  was  given,  their  voices  were 
hushed,  all  hands  were  on  deck,  the  hatches  were 
fastened  down,  fire-arms  were  distributed,  and 
preparations  made  for  repelling  some  antici- 
pated attack.  The  reason  was  soon  ascertained. 
Rounding  the  point,  still  at  a  distance,  and  dimly 
seen  by  the  uncertain  light,  a  sail  was  discerned 
approaching  the  lugger.  We  can  remember, 
even  now,  our  awkward  sensations  on  the  occa- 
sion; apprehensive  that  we  might  have  to  pay  a 
frightful  penalty  for  our  curiosity;  for  when  re- 
flection came,  it  came  too  late;  we  had  no  means 
of  returning  to  land,  and  were  compelled  to 
share  the  destiny  of  our  comrades  of  the  moment, 
whatever  that  destiny  might  be ;  the  easiest,  per- 
haps, a  trip  to  Holland.  The  opinions  of  the 
crew  as  to  the  nature  of  the  object  that  drew  to- 
wards them  were  varied;  the  night  was  too  dark 
to  distinguish  more  than  that  the  vessel  was  small 
and  had  but  one  mast — but  the  neighbouring 


CORK  207 

revenue  cruiser  was  known  to  bear  this  character. 
We  shall  not  readily  forget  the  whispers  of  "  'tis 
her,"  and  "  'tis  not  her,"  that  went  round — only 
serving  to  make  the  suspense  more  painful.  The 
alarm  was  soon  found  to  be  a  false  one;  it  pro- 
ceeded from  one  of  the  fishing  hookers  of  the 
coast.  The  smuggler  made  her  heave  to,  and 
remain  alongside;  but  solaced  the  men  for  the 
delay,  by  flinging  on  board  an  anker  of  geneva. 
Another  signal  was  made;  the  boats  returned; 
the  work  was  rapidly  finished;  we  embarked  in 
the  last  of  them;  and,  as  we  touched  land,  we 
saw  the  lugger  gradually  fade  away  into  the 
deeper  darkness, — her  bow  was  turned  towards 
home. 

The  strand  was  by  this  time  nearly  deserted; 
and  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  barely  an  hour 
had  sufficed  to  discharge  the  whole  cargo,  and  to 
distribute  it  among  the  glens  and  mountains. 
Next  day  parties  of  the  excise  were  scattered  in 
all  directions,  in  search  of  the  prize  they  had 
missed — but  very  little  of  the  whole  was  found. 
The  curious  in  such  matters  may  now  examine, 
all  along  the  coast,  numerous  holes  and  caves 
formerly  depositaries  of  smuggled  goods ; 61  and 
in  a  little  island  off  Glengariff,  may,  if  he  pleases, 
visit  one  of  them,  known  as  "  Brandy  Island," 
stories  in  connexion  with  which  will  be  related 
to  him,  in  abundance,  by  the  boatmen. 

Between  the  town  of  Ross-Carbery  and  Skib- 
bereen,  and  at  the  head  of  Glandore  Harbour, 
the  tourist  passes  along  a  beautiful  and  pictur- 
esque road,  where 


208  IRELAND 

"  Lakes  upon  lakes  interminably  gleam;  " 

and  to  one  point,  in  particular,  his  attention 
should  be  directed — the  glen  called  "  The  Leap," 
the  ancient  boundary  which  divided  the  civilized 
from  the  uncivilized;  "  beyond  the  Leap  beyond 
the  law,"  being,  even  within  our  own  mem- 
ory, an  accepted  proverb.  Not  far  from 
Skibbereen  is  a  singular  salt-water  lake,  Lough 
Hyne,  or  Ine  (the  deep  lake).  In  the  cen- 
tre is  a  long  island,  upon  which  are  the 
ruins  of  one  of  the  castles  of  the  O'Driscolls. 
It  is  surrounded  by  picturesque  hills,  some  rocky 
and  precipitous,  others  steep  and  woody,  rising 
from  the  lake.  Mr.  Willes  has  made  his  sketch 
from  a  churchyard,  peculiar  to  Ireland,  devoted 
exclusively  to  the  interment  of  children,  and 
where  there  was  formerly  a  chapel  dedicated  to 
St.  Bridget.  (See  Plate  No.  4.)  In  the  fore- 
ground is  one  of  the  singular  ring-stones  or  pil- 
lar-stones, engraven  with  inscrutable  characters. 
It  is  immortalized  in  traditionary  lore,  and  the 
country  people  attach  great  value  to  it,  affirm- 
ing that  it  has  been  gifted  by  the  Patron  Saint 
with  miraculous  power — at  least,  for  its  own 
preservation.  It  has  been  repeatedly  removed, 
to  form  lintels  for  doors,  and  to  answer  various 
other  purposes,  but  always  found  its  way  back 
again  to  its  original  station.  Once  it  was  taken 
off  by  a  gang  of  sacrilegious  sailors,  and  thrown 
into  the  sea ;  when,  after  raising  a  terrific  storm, 
it  was  beheld,  next  day,  safely  and  soundly  in  its 
own  proper  place.  With  this  lake  there  is  also 


FOUR 


CORK  209 

connected  another  legend — but  one  common  to 
nearly  all  the  deep-bedded  and  lonely  loughs  with 
"  gloomy  shores ;  " — for  Lough  Hyne 

"  Skylark  never  warbles  o'er." 

As  at  Glendalough,  the  sweet  birds  "  singing  to 
heaven's  gate  "  having  disturbed  the  saint  at  her 
orisons,  she  prayed  to  the  Virgin  to  silence  their 
song;  and  was  so  far  answered,  that  they  were 
ordered  into  a  solitude  less  sacred  to  penitence 
and  prayer. 

The  coast,  south-west  of  Skibbereen,  is  dotted 
with  islands; — 

"  Sea-girt  isles, 

That,  like  to  rich  and  various  gems,  inlay 
The  unadorned  bosom  of  the  deep/' — 

the  most  famous  of  which  is  that  of  Cape  Clear. 
Innisherken,  immediately  opposite  Baltimore 
harbour,  is  full  of  interest.  The  O'Driscolls  had 
formerly  castles  here,  which  defended  the  en- 
trance to  the  harbour.  Cape  Clear — the  well- 
known  landmark  for  vessels  outward  or  home- 
ward bound — is  the  most  southern  point  of 
Ireland.  In  the  ancient  ecclesiastical  books  it  is 
called  "  Insula  Sancta  Clara,"  and  in  the  old 
Irish  MS.  "  Inish  Damhly."  Many  years  have 
passed  since  we  visited  this  wild  and  primitive 
district ;  but  we  learn  from  more  recent  travellers 
that  the  character  of  its  inhabitants  continues 
quite  unchanged.  They  exist  almost  in  a  state 
of  nature;  depending  for  food  upon  the  potato 
crops  and  the  fish  that  swarm  round  their  rocks; 

V— 14 


210  IRELAND 

seldom  visit  the  main  land ;  and  are  devotedly  at- 
tached to  their  rugged  strand  and  almost  as 
rugged  plain — a  temporary  exile  from  which 
they  consider  a  grievous  affliction. 

In  the  year  1750  there  were,  according  to 
Smith,  in  the  island,  about  four  hundred  fam- 
ilies ;  they  do  not  seem  to  have  increased,  for  the 
latest  returns  give  the  population  as  less  than 
eleven  hundred.  Indeed  it  is  not  likely  that  it 
could  supply  the  means  of  existence  to  a  larger 
number — the  island  being  only  three  miles  long, 
and  one  mile  and  a  half  in  breadth.  On  the 
south  side  is  the  light-house,  which,  it  is  said,  may 
be  distinguished  in  clear  weather  from  a  distance 
of  twenty-eight  nautical  miles.  On  the  north- 
west point  of  the  island  is  the  singularly 
picturesque  ruin  of  the  castle  of  Dunanore,  or 
the  Golden  Fort.  It  stands  on  a  rock;  a  very 
narrow  passage  leads  to  it;  the  path  being  so 
steep  and  high,  and  the  sea  dashing  and  foaming 
against  it  on  either  side,  the  ascent  to  it  is  a 
somewhat  perilous  task.  "  When  I  got  to  the 
top  of  the  castle,"  says  Dr.  Smith,  "  and  beheld 
the  ocean  roaring  round  me,  I  wished  heartily 
to  be  again  on  the  main  land."  Legends  enough 
to  make  a  volume  are  connected  with  this  re- 
markable ruin:  it  was  formerly  a  stronghold  of 
the  O'Driscolls — some  of  whom  are  stated  to 
have  mingled  the  hospitalities  of  the  Irish  chief- 
tain with  the  reckless  darings  of  the  buccaneer. 

To  the  west  of  Baltimore  is  the  harbour  of 
Crookhaven,  separated  by  a  narrow  promontory 
from  the  beautiful  Dunmanus  Bay,  which  an- 


CORK  211 

other  promontory  divides  from  the  famous  Bay 
of  Bantry. 

The  mail-coach  road  from  Skibbereen  to 
Bantry  runs  through  a  wild  and  uninteresting 
country;  and  the  traveller  who  desires  to  ex- 
amine the  most  peculiar  and  picturesque  portion 
of  the  Irish  coast,  will  have  to  pursue  a  route 
less  easy  of  access,  but  far  more  certain  of  recom- 
pense for  the  expenditure  of  time  and  labour. 
The  mountains  appear  to  rise  directly  from  the 
sea,  as  if  they  were  but  the  continuations  of 
mountains  underneath  the  ocean;  small  villages 
are  thickly  scattered  at  their  base;  Mount 
Gabriel,  bleak  and  barren  from  the  foot  to  the 
summit,  looks  down  upon  the  poor  village — once 
a  famous  collegiate  town — of  Scull. 

Lakes  are  to  be  seen  in  every  valley,  upon  the 
mountain  sides  and  on  their  summits,  from 
whence  pour  down  the  streams  that  now  and  then 
break  in  cataracts  over  precipices;  and  on  the 
opposite  sides,  the  sea,  with  its  stores  of  green 
islands,  or  black  rocks ;  creeks  and  bays  and  har- 
bours running  into  the  land;  and  beyond  all  the 
broad  Atlantic,  that  affords  no  resting-place  for 
the  sea-bird  until  he  closes  up  his  wings  and 
stands  on  the  continent  of  America. 

The  ocean,  with  its  tales  of  shipwrecks  and 
piracies — the  land,  with  its  legends  and  tradi- 
tions, afford  themes  to  fill  folios  of  interest  and 
excitement;  every  castle  (of  which  there  remain 
the  ruins  of  hundreds)  has  its  story  of  bold  ad- 
venture. 

The  Lakes,  too,  are  fertile  of  legends :  for  ex- 


212  IRELAND 

amples — that  on  the  summit  of  Mount  Gabriel, 
with  its  eternal  serpent,  and  depth  that  has 
never  been  fathomed;  Loughdrine,  where  on  a 
certain  day  of  every  year  the  islands  used  to 
dance  merrily,  change  places,  and  shift  from  one 
side  to  the  other  from  sunset  to  sunrise; 62  Bal- 
linlough,  where  the  fairies  keep  nightly  guard, 
protecting  the  passage  that  leads  from  the  an- 
cient rath  that  borders  it,  to  the  bottom,  where 
flourishes  the  Thierna-na-oge — "  the  land  of 
perpetual  youth."  The  stranger  will,  in  short, 
find,  wherever  he  travels,  in  this  wild  and  com- 
paratively primitive  neighbourhood,  a  rich  abun- 
dance to  interest,  excite,  and  amuse,  and  not  a 
little  to  inform  and  instruct. 

The  early  associations  of  one  of  us  with  Ire- 
land are  connected  chiefly  with  this  wild  district; 
for  here  our  father,  Colonel  Hall,  embarked  in 
mining  speculations,  and  within  a  circuit  of  little 
more  than  twenty  miles,  discovered  and  opened 
no  fewer  than  thirteen  mines;  some  of  which  he 
continued  to  work  for  a  considerable  period ;  and 
although  his  efforts  were  in  the  end  unsuccessful, 
he  set  an  example  of  enterprise  and  activity,  and 
supplied  evidence  of  the  vast  mineral  wealth  of 
the  country,  which  entitle  us  to  claim  for  him 
some  tribute  of  public  gratitude,  and  justify  us 
in  placing  to  his  credit  much  of  the  benefit  that 
Ireland  has  since  derived  from  the  "  Companies," 
who  have  been  enabled  to  render  to  it  the  service 
that  exceeded  the  strength  of  a  private  indi- 
vidual. We  shall,  therefore,  discharge  a  debt  of 
duty  no  less  than  affection,  if  we  briefly  direct 


CORK  213 

attention  to  the  exertions  of  a  gentleman  who  is 
now  removed  beyond  the  reach  even  of  so  small 
a  recompense. 

Colonel  Hall  commanded  a  regiment,  raised 
by  him  in  his  own  country  of  Devon,  which  con- 
tained a  large  number  of  Cornish  miners.  In 
1795,  it  was  ordered  to  Ireland;  and  at  the  sug- 
gestions of  some  practical  men  under  his  com- 
mand— who  were  astonished  to  find  everywhere 
demonstrations  of  mines  more  promising  than 
those  with  which  they  were  intimate  in  Cornwall 
— he  was,  not  long  afterwards,  induced  to  em- 
bark his  property  in  mining  speculations.  It 
was  not,  however,  until  his  regiment  was  dis- 
banded, in  1802,  that  he  was  enabled  to  devote 
his  whole  time  and  energy  to  the  subject. 

If  our  recollection  serves,  his  first  essays  in 
mining  were  commenced  by  Colonel  Hall  on  the 
property  of  Mr.  Bolton,  in  the  county  of  Water- 
ford,  and  subsequently  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
village  of  Silver-mines  on  the  estate  of  Lord 
Dunally,  in  the  county  of  Tipperary.  The 
product  of  this  mine  was  a  sulphuret  of  lead, 
containing  a  considerable  proportion  of  silver, 
which  had  been  worked  at  a  former  period,  and 
probably  gave  name  to  the  village.  But  it  was 
on  the  royalty  of  Lord  Kenmare,  in  the  vicinity 
of  Killarney,  that  his  operations  assumed  a  char- 
acter of  importance.  This  was  a  deposit  of  an 
exceedingly  rich  copper  ore,  the  working  of 
which  commenced  in  1804.63  Exclusive  of  the 
very  extensive  mineral  deposit  brought  to  light 
on  Ross  Island,  operations,  to  a  limited  extent, 


214  IRELAND 

were  prosecuted  at  another  small  island  on  the 
lake,  called  Crow  Island,  where  evidence  of  the 
presence  of  copper  manifested  itself;  and,  at  a 
subsequent  period,  other  attempts  were  made  in 
this  vicinity,  on  the  estate  of  Mr.  Herbert  of 
Mucruss  Abbey,  where  a  limited  quantity  of  the 
arseniates  of  cobalt  and  copper  were  obtained, 
but  not  sufficient  to  induce  an  extensive  prose- 
cution. The  mines  on  Ross  Island  continued  at 
work  for  some  years;  and  it  was  not,  we  believe, 
until  1813,  that  Colonel  Hall  commenced  his 
discoveries  in  the  district  to  which  we  make 
especial  reference;  and  where  he  persevered, 
until  somewhere  about  the  year  1823,  with  varied 
success,  but  with  capital  far  too  limited  for  large 
operations — opening,  as  we  have  said,  no  fewer 
than  thirteen  mines,  one  of  which,  that  at  Bal- 
ledehob,  between  Skibbereen  and  Scull,  was  at 
work  for  about  four  years,  employing  on  the 
average  two  hundred  persons  weekly,  and  ship- 
ping many  thousand  tons  of  ore  to  Swansea. 
Mr.  Croker,  in  his  "  Researches  in  the  South  of 
Ireland,"  states  that  "  the  mines  on  the  estate  of 
Lord  Audley,  about  ten  miles  west  of  Skibber- 
een, were  discovered  and  opened  by  Colonel 
Hall  about  the  year  1814.  Three  distinct  veins 
present  themselves  at  no  very  considerable  dis- 
tance from  each  other.  The  first  worked  was  a 
bright  yellow  ore  of  iron  pyrites,  containing  in 
general  about  eight  per  cent,  of  copper.  The 
second  has  been  scarcely  attended  to,  as  it  chiefly 
consisted  of  green  carbonate  of  copper,  dissem- 
inated through  a  slate-clay,  with  small  nodules  of 


CORK  215 

grey  or  purple  ore  appearing  here  and  there. 
In  the  third  (Kippagh),  which  has  been  more 
extensively  pursued  than  either  of  the  others,  the 
ore  is  a  very  rich  sulphuret  of  copper,  containing 
from  fifty-five  to  sixty-five  per  cent,  of  that 
metal,  and  near  the  surface  gave  every  promise 
of  being  a  very  valuable  vein,  but  it  degenerated 
in  depth,  and  was,  as  well  as  the  others,  relin- 
quished." 

This  mine  of  Kippagh  was  subsequently  taken 
by  the  "  Mining  Company  of  Ireland,"  who 
worked  it  for  a  time,  but  with  success  so  limited 
as  to  induce  its  abandonment;64  and  about  the 
year  1835,  the  late  Lord  Audley,  into  whose 
hands  it  again  came,  formed  a  company,  and 
raised  an  enormous  sum  in  London,  for  the  pro- 
fessed purpose  of  setting  the  mine  once  more  at 
work.  Circumstances,  to  which  it  is  now  un- 
necessary to  do  more  than  refer,  brought  the 
matter  into  the  Court  of  Chancery,  and  we  ap- 
prehend the  consequence  has  been  a  total  loss  to 
the  shareholders;  who  have  complained,  and  cer- 
tainly not  without  justice,  that  a  mine  which  had 
been  resigned  by  a  private  party,  and  relin- 
quished by  a  public  company,  as  either  valueless 
or  impoverished,  should  have  been  so  described 
as  to  induce  them  to  embark  capital  in  the  under- 
taking. 

The  other  mines  discovered  and  opened  by 
Colonel  Hall  do  not  require  particular  notice — 
with  the  exception  of  one,  if  it  can  be  classed 
under  that  head.  The  history  of  this  discovery 
is  curious,  and  may  interest  our  readers. 


216  IRELAND 

Walking,  one  day,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  his 
residence  at  Glandore,  Colonel  Hall  noticed 
some  fish-bones  of  a  green  hue  among  turf  ashes ; 
his  curiosity  was  excited  to  inquiry  by  what 
means  they  obtained  so  singular  a  colour;  and 
on  analysing  them,  he  found  they  contained  cop- 
per. His  next  object  was  to  ascertain  how  they 
acquired  this  unnatural  quality;  and  he  learned 
that  it  was  received  from  contact  with  the  ashes 
of  turf  cut  in  a  neighbouring  bog,  known  to  the 
peasantry  as  the  "  stinking  bog; "  and  that 
neither  dog  nor  cat  would  live  in  the  cabin  in 
which  the  turf  was  burnt.  Having  gathered  so 
much,  his  farther  progress  was  easy.  The  ashes 
were  strongly  impregnated  with  copper.  He 
first  collected  from  the  heaps  adjoining  the  cot- 
tages as  large  a  quantity  as  he  could,  and  shipped 
it  to  Swansea,  where  it  brought,  if  we  remember 
rightly,  between  eight  and  nine  pounds  a  ton65 — 
a  remunerating  price.  His  next  step  was  to 
take  a  lease  of  the  bog,  build  kilns  upon  it,  and 
burn  the  turf.  This  plan  he  continued  until  the 
whole  of  the  bog  was  consumed,  and  sent,  to  the 
extent  of  several  hundred  tons,  to  the  Welsh 
smelting-houses — the  ease  with  which  it  was 
smelted  greatly  enhancing  its  value. 

It  was  a  curious  sight — and  one  we  recollect 
well — to  see  scores  of  workmen  cutting  the  turf, 
conveying  it  to  one  kiln  to  dry,  and  then  to  an- 
other to  be  burnt;  while  the  carts  were  bearing 
the  ashes  to  the  river  side  to  be  shipped  for 
Wales.  Mr.  Croker,  in  the  work  we  have 
quoted,  states,  that  "  the  particles  contained  in 


CORK  217 

the  turf  are  supposed  to  have  been  conveyed  into 
the  bog  by  a  stream  from  one  of  the  surrounding 
hills,  which,  passing  through  a  copper  vein,  took 
them  up  in  a  state  of  sulphate,  but  meeting  with 
some  iron  ore  in  its  progress,  or  in  the  bog,  be- 
came deposited  in  the  metallic  state,  though  a 
large  proportion  contained  in  the  turf  was  still 
in  a  state  of  sulphate,  which  was  proved  by  al- 
lowing a  knife  to  remain  in  it  a  few  seconds, 
when  it  became  incrusted  with  a  coat  of  copper." 
Unfortunately  for  Colonel  Hall,  however,  when 
the  bog  was  burnt  out,  he  considered  his  oper- 
ations as  only  commenced;  his  object  being  to 
discover  the  vein  of  ore  by  which  the  bog  had 
been  supplied  with  copper.  In  a  vain  search 
for  the  source,  technically  called  "  the  lode,"  he 
expended  all  he  had  made  by  sales  of  the  ashes; 
shafts  were  sunk  in  several  of  the  surrounding 
hills;  and  he  continued  the  pursuit  until  his 
capital  was  exhausted. 

We  have  written  sufficient  to  do  honour  to  the 
memory  of  an  individual,  to  whose  energy  and 
enterprise  Ireland  is  considerably  indebted;  for 
he  was  among  the  earliest  of  those  who  laboured 
to  turn  to  account  the  great  natural  resources  of 
the  country — to  encourage  men  of  larger  means 
— men  who  will  probably  reap  the  rich  harvest 
for  which  it  was  his  destiny  only  to  prepare  the 
ground66 — and  to  direct  public  attention  to  a 
source  of  profit  for  the  undertakers,  and  of  em- 
ployment for  the  people.  Like  many  others 
who  have  pointed  out  the  way  to  fortune,  it  was 
his  fate  to  behold  the  achievement  of  his  hopes 


218  IRELAND 

only  from  a  very  remote  distance;  but  he  enjoyed 
the  enviable  knowledge  that  his  labour  had  not 
been  in  vain;  that  he  had  been  the  means  of 
spending  some  hundreds  of  thousands  of  pounds 
in  the  country;  of  giving  advantageous  em- 
ployment to  masses  of  the  people  in  various 
districts,  and  of  showing  how  others  might 
certainly  do  that  which  he,  as  certainly,  failed 
of  doing. 

The  far-famed  Bay  of  Bantry  is,  perhaps, 
unsurpassed  by  any  harbour  of  the  kingdom  for 
natural  beauties  combined  with  natural  advan- 
tages. As  we  approach  it,  along  the  dreary 
road  from  Skibbereen,  a  sudden  turn,  at  the  base 
of  a  rugged  hill,  brings  us  suddenly  within  view 
of  the  most  striking  objects  which  make  up  the 
glorious  scene.  Far  and  away,  in  the  distant 
background,  tower,  and  meet  the  clouds,  the 
lofty  Mangerton  and  Macgillicuddy's  Reeks; 
nearer,  rises  Hungry  Hill,  the  Sugar  Loaf,  and 
a  long  range — the  Caha  Mountains — among 
which  it  is  said,  and  said  on  good  authority,  there 
are  no  fewer  than  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
lakes — the  number  having,  of  course,  suggested 
a  legend,  that  some  holy  saint  prayed  effectually 
for  one  to  supply  water  for  each  day  of  the  year. 
Little  flat  and  fertile  islands  lie  at  the  feet  of  the 
spectator;  and,  nearly  facing  the  town,  Whiddy 
Island,  with  its  fierce-looking  fortifications,  and 
its  fields  rich  with  the  promised  harvest.  It  is 
impossible  to  do  justice  to  the  exceeding  gran- 
deur and  surpassing  loveliness  of  the  scene;  the 
whole  of  it  is  taken  in  by  the  eye  at  once ;  we  are 


CORK  219 

not  called  upon  to  turn  from  side  to  side  for 
new  objects  to  admire — we  gaze  upon  it  all;  and 
he  must  be  indeed  dead  to  nature,  who  does  not 
drink  in  as  delicious  a  draught  as  Nature,  in  the 
fulness  of  her  beauty,  ever  presented.67 

The  road  into  the  town — a  town  that  has  been 
too  truly  described  as  "  a  seaport  without  trade,  a 
harbour  without  shipping,  and  a  coast  with  a 
failing  fishery " — runs  immediately  under  the 
fine  demesne  of  the  Earl  of  Bantry — and  all 
the  way  it  is  one  continued  line  of  beauty;  we 
never  for  a  moment  lose  sight  of  the  distant 
mountains,  or  the  foreground  of  green  islands; 
while  the  ear  is  gladdened  by  the  mingled  har- 
mony of  the  rippling  waves,  and  the  birds  that 
sing  among  the  foliage  of  the  thickly  and  grace- 
fully wooded  plantations. 

There  are  not  many  islands  in  this  vast  ex- 
panse of  water — "  Whiddy  "  is  the  largest ;  and 
there  are  besides,  Hog,  Horse,  Coney,  and 
Chapel  Islands,  flung  into  the  glorious  bay — 
land-locked,  as  we  have  said,  by  gigantic  abrupt 
headlands,  beyond  which  the  Killarney  moun- 
tains seem  to  tower  into  the  clouds. 

The  Bay  is  memorable  in  history  as  having 
been  twice  entered  by  a  French  force  for  the 
invasion  of  Ireland — the  first  in  1689,  in  aid  of 
James  II. ;  the  next  in  1796 : — some  details  con- 
cerning the  latter  cannot  fail  to  interest  our 
readers. 

The  French  invasion  of  Bantry  Bay,  which 
occurred  in  December,  1796,  forms  a  remarkable 
page  in  the  history  of  the  country  and  of  the 


220  IRELAND 

age;  and  it  is  singular  that  so  very  little  should 
be  known  of  the  circumstances  under  which  it 
took  place.  The  accounts  published  in  the  news- 
papers of  the  day  are  meagre  and  questionable; 
and,  upon  the  whole,  the  "  Journal  of  Theobald 
Wolfe  Tone,"  edited  by  his  son,  and  printed  at 
Washington,  in  1826,  is  the  best  authority  re- 
specting the  organization  of  this  formidable 
armament.  The  project,  undoubtedly,  arose  out 
of  the  suggestion  of  Tone;  whose  seditious  con- 
duct in  Ireland  had  caused  him  to  become  an 
exile  in  America,  where,  stimulated  to  action, 
and  supplied  with  funds,  by  his  republican 
friends,  he  determined  on  proceeding  to  France, 
as  agent  for  the  Society  of  United  Irishmen.68 
He  landed  at  Havre,  in  February,  1796;  and  on 
his  arrival  at  Paris,  was  put  into  the  proper  chan- 
nels for  diplomatic  negotiation,  by  Munro,  the 
American  ambassador,  who  was,  at  this  period, 
cautiously,  yet  vigorously,  intriguing  for  the 
separation  of  Ireland  from  England.  The 
vague  plans  of  the  French  for  invading  Ireland 
speedily  assumed  a  tangible  shape.  Tone  re- 
ceived a  commission  as  chef -de-brigade ;  was  in- 
troduced to  General  Hoche,  by  whom  he  was  sub- 
sequently appointed  adjutant-general,  and  was 
directed  to  draw  up  a  proclamation  respecting  the 
contemplated  invasion.69  This  proclamation  was 
immediately  printed,  but  so  secretly  as  to  baffle 
the  English  spies;  while  other  documents,  which 
assigned  to  the  armament  different  destinations, 
were  suffered  to  fall  into  their  hands — a  ma- 
noeuvre intended  to  mislead  the  British  govern- 


CORK  221 

ment,  and  which  may  account  for  the  distrust  of 
the  intelligence  respecting  the  large  and  active 
preparations  then  making  at  Brest,  which  occu- 
pied the  entire  summer  of  1796.  On  the  1st  of 
December,  Tone  embarked  on  board  the  "  In- 
domptable,"  a  ship  of  the  line,  and  on  the  16th 
of  December  the  fleet  "  for  the  invasion  of  Ire- 
land," set  sail  in  two  divisions  from  the  port  of 
Brest.  It  consisted  of  17  ships  of  the  line;  13 
frigates;  5  corvettes;  2  gun-boats;  and  6  trans- 
ports; with  about  14,000  men,70  45,000  stand  of 
arms,  and  an  ample  supply  of  money  for  the 
purposes  of  the  expedition.  In  their  passage 
from  the  harbour,  as  if  ominous  of  the  disasters 
they  were  subsequently  to  encounter,  one  of  their 
ships,  a  seventy-four,  struck  on  a  rock,  and  of 
550  men  on  board  only  thirty  were  saved;  and  a 
few  days  afterwards  another  was  driven  on  shore ; 
when  1,000  out  of  1,800  perished.  After  other 
disastrous  accidents — every  ship  of  the  fleet  be- 
ing more  or  less  injured — the  main  body  arrived 
off  the  coast  of  Ireland,  and  on  the  22nd,  an- 
chored off  Bere  Island,  in  Bantry  Bay.71  Intel- 
ligence of  the  event  was,  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
communicated  to  the  Irish  and  English  govern- 
ments. Not  the  slightest  preparation,  however, 
had  been  made  to  meet  the  enemy;  and,  but  for 
the  interposition  of  Divine  Providence,  Ireland 
must  have  been  involved  in  a  bloody  and  deso- 
lating civil  war.72 

For  several  days  previous,  the  weather  had 
been  even  more  than  usually  stormy  at  this  pe- 
riod of  the  year;  and  when  the  wind  lulled,  a 


222  IRELAND 

dense  fog  overspread  the  sea,  so  that  the  French 
ships  were  seeking  each  other,  in  vain,  along  the 
ocean.73  Of  the  43  that  quitted  Brest,  16  only 
anchored  at  Bantry;  next  day,  a  heavy  gale  once 
more  dispersed  them ;  on  the  morning  of  the  26th, 
others  having  parted  company,  the  formidable 
fleet  was  reduced  to  seven  sail  of  the  line  and 
one  frigate;  the  force  in  men  had  by  this  time 
dwindled  to  4,168;  it  was  therefore  resolved  at 
a  council  of  war,  "  not  to  attempt  a  landing,  as 
no  demonstration  had  been  made  "  by  the  Irish 
on  shore  in  favour  of  the  French ; 74  and  it  was 
determined  to  put  out  to  sea,  and  to  cruise  off 
the  Shannon  in  the  hope  that  the  dissevered  arma- 
ment might  be  concentrated  there.  On  the  27th, 
they  weighed  anchor  and  quitted  the  bay ;  but  on 
the  1st  of  January,  a  portion  of  them  returned, 
and  remained  inactive  for  two  or  three  days.  By 
degrees,  ship  after  ship  of  the  once  formidable 
fleet  entered  the  French  harbours;  and  on  the 
15th,  General  Hoche  himself,  in  the  Fraternite, 
reached  Rochelle,  having  had  several  narrow  es- 
capes from  capture  by  the  English  fleet. 

Bantry  was,  thus,  soon  freed  from  the  pres- 
ence of  the  invaders ;  no  Frenchmen  having  trod- 
den upon  Irish  ground,  with  the  exception  of  an 
officer  and  seven  men,  who,  being  sent  in  a  boat 
to  reconnoitre,  were  taken  prisoners  by  Mr. 
James  O'Sullivan  of  Berehaven. 

The  storm  that  scattered  the  French  fleet,  and, 
under  Providence,  preserved  Ireland  from  civil 
war  and  contamination  by  the  atrocious  princi- 
ples of  the  republicans  of  1793,  is  still  remem- 


CORK  223 

bered  in  the  vicinity  of  Bantry  Bay,  where  it  is 
referred  to  as  an  epoch  to  assist  memory.75 

To  visit  Glengariff,  the  tourist  may  proceed 
either  by  land,  or  by  water  across  the  bay; — it 
is  obvious  that  the  best  mode  will  be  to  go  by  one 
way  and  return  by  the  other,  both  offering  strong 
temptations  to  the  lover  of  the  picturesque. 
Those,  however,  who  take  it  in  their  route  to 
Killarney,  and  do  not  design  to  make  any  stay 
at  Bantry,  had  better  continue  the  road;  for  the 
bay  may  be  seen  fully  from  the  hills  above  either 
Bantry  or  Glengariff ;  or,  at  all  events,  by  taking 
a  boat  a  mile  or  two  from  the  shore  of  either.76 
The  road  is  exceedingly  wild  and  picturesque;  a 
short  distance  from  the  town,  the  Mialloch,  "  the 
murmuring  river,"  is  crossed  by  a  small  bridge; 
a  little  way  below  which  the  water  is  precipitated 
from  thirty  to  forty  feet  over  a  ledge  of  rocks 
of  fantastic  forms ;  this  is  the  "  Fall  of  Duna- 
marc:  "  close  to  it  we  saw  a  water-mill  in  full 
work,  which,  although  it  diverted  the  current,  and 
consequently  lessened  the  effect  of  the  cataract, 
evidenced  activity  and  industry,  and  heightened 
the  moral  beauty  of  the  scene.  In  this  imme- 
diate vicinity,  according  to  one  of  the  fanciful 
traditions  of  Keating,  the  first  human  foot  trod 
upon  Irish  ground — Ladra  having  effected  a 
landing  in  Ireland  exactly  forty  days  before  the 
Flood.  After  passing  three  or  four  miles  of 
good  road,  and  comparatively  cultivated  land, 
we  entered  a  rude  and  rugged  district;  barren 
hills  towering  over  us  at  either  side;  and  among 
them  rapid  streams  rushing  over  gigantic  stones 


224  IRELAND 

down  into  the  valleys.  We  left  to  the  right  an 
interesting  object — a  little  chapel  nestling  among 
the  barren  hills;  and  a  short  way  farther  on  we 
passed  one  of  those  singular  dwelling  places,  by 
no  means  rare  in  this  wild  part  of  the  country; 
we  were  startled  by  a  human  form  issuing  from 
a  mass  of  huge  rocks ;  and,  upon  inquiry,  learned 
that  a  family  actually  lived  in  a  hole  which  the 
rocks  protected  and  sheltered.  They  had  evi- 
dently fallen,  ages  ago,  in  the  position  they  re- 
tained, enclosing  and  covering  a  natural  chamber. 
On  entering,  we  found  a  woman  with  three  chil- 
dren;— the  man  was  at  work  in  the  adjacent 
"  garden;  " — here  they  contrived  to  exist  during 
the  summer  months;  for  we  ascertained  that,  in 
winter,  they  quitted  it  for  some  neighbouring 
town,  where  they  worked  or  begged,  according  to 
circumstances.  The  woman  replied  to  our  few 
questions  with  cheerfulness  and  civility;  and  to 
an  expression  approaching  to  condolence  as  to 
the  misery  of  her  lot,  replied  "  It's  bad  enough 
to  be  sure,  yer  honour;  but  there's  many  have 
worse  places  to  lay  their  four  bones  in."  While 
conversing  with  her,  we  observed  a  singular  char- 
acter watching  our  movements ;  it  was  one  of  the 
Kerry  peasants,  mounted  on  a  small  active  pony, 
sitting  in  front  of  a  pair  of  hampers,  in  which 
he  had  conveyed  his  tubs  of  butter  to  the  market 
of  Cork,  from  which  he  was  now  returning.  The 
hampers  were  fastened  to  the  horse  by  a  rope  of 
hay;  and  his  bridle,  which  was  merely  twisted 
round  the  nose  of  the  animal,  was  made  of  the 
same  material.  In  this  primitive  style  he  gal- 


CORK  225 

loped  up  and  down  hills  as  fearlessly,  and  far 
more  safely,  than  a  steed  fully  caparisoned  for 
the  chase.  We  learned  that  he  was  one  of  the 
class  known  in  cities  and  towns  by  the  cognomen 
of  "  Kerry  Dragoons."  He  was  a  fine  hand- 
some fellow,  with  keen  grey  eyes,  white  teeth,  and 
a  complexion  bronzed  by  healthy  exercise ;  by  no 
means  communicative,  however,  for  to  our  ques- 
tions he  had  but  one  answer — "  Nein  English." 
As  we  drew  near  Glengariff,  we  had  a  foretaste 
of  the  rich  treat  we  were  about  to  enjoy;  for,  long 
before  we  had  again  a  glimpse  of  the  bay,  the 
scenery  assumed  a  rich  and  luxuriant  character, 
strongly  contrasting  with  the  dreary  solitude  we 
were  leaving. 

Language  utterly  fails  to  convey  even  a  lim- 
ited idea  of  the  exceeding  beauty  of  Glengariff — 
"  the  rough  glen  " — which  merits,  to  the  full,  the 
enthusiastic  praise  that  has  been  lavished  upon  it 
by  every  traveller  by  whom  it  has  been  visited. 
It  is  a  deep  alpine  valley,  enclosed  by  precipitous 
hills,  about  three  miles  in  length,  and  seldom  ex- 
ceeding a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  breadth.  Black 
and  savage  rocks  embosom,  as  it  were,  a  scene  of 
surpassing  loveliness — endowed  by  nature  with 
the  richest  gifts  of  wood  and  water ;  for  the  trees 
are  graceful  in  form,  luxuriant  in  foliage,  and 
varied  in  character;  and  the  rippling  stream,  the 
strong  river,  and  the  foaming  cataract,  are  sup- 
plied from  a  thousand  rills  collected  in  the  moun- 
tains. Beyond  all,  is  the  magnificent  bay,  with 
its  numerous  islands, — by  one  of  which  it  is  so 
guarded  and  sheltered  as  to  receive  the  aspect  of  a 


v— is 


226  IRELAND 

serene  lake.  The  artist  cannot  do  it  justice;  and 
the  pen  must  be  laid  aside  in  despair !  Our  mem- 
ories, indeed,  recall  every  portion  of  the  magic 
spot, — but  only  to  convince  us  how  weak  and  in- 
efficient must  be  our  efforts  to  describe  it.  We 
are  again  wandering  through  the  glen — among 
majestic  trees,  fantastic  rocks,  and  bubbling  riv- 
ulets, which  every  now  and  then  rush  by  huge 
masses  of  stone,  and,  finding  a  declivity,  roar 
along  their  rapid  way,  until,  encountering  some 
new  obstruction,  they  creep  awhile,  and  anon 
force  a  passage  onwards,  breaking  into  masses 
of  foam — forth  ere  the  mountain  torrents  crawl 
or  gallop  to  mingle  with  the  broad  Atlantic. 
The  song  of  birds  is  either  hushed  or  unheard; 
and  but  for  the  ripple  or  the  roar  of  waters,  there 
is  no  sound  to  disturb  a  solitude  perfect  and  pro- 
found. We  look  up  to  the  mountains;  they  are 
of  all  forms,  altitudes,  and  outlines.  The  most 
prominent  among  them  is  the  Sugar-loaf,  Slieve- 
na-goil,  "  the  mountain  of  the  wild  people,'*  with 
its  conical  head,  soaring  into  the  clouds;  and  to 
the  rear,  but  at  a  considerable  distance,  Hungry 
Hill,  with  its  naked  and  meagre  sides,  down 
which  runs  a  stream  from  the  lake  upon  its  sum- 
mit, until,  gathering  as  it  goes,  it  breaks  in  a 
tremendous  cataract  of  eight  hundred  feet,  ex- 
panding as  it  falls,  and  flinging  a  spray  around 
it,  that  seems  to  cover  with  a  thick  mist  a  third 
part  of  the  hill : — 

"  Now  a  blue  wat'ry  sheet;  anon  dispersed 
A  hoary  mist;  then  gathered  in  again, 
A  darted  stream  along  the  hollow  rock, 


CORK  227 

This  way  and  that  tormented,  dashing  thick. 
From  steep  to  steep  with  wild  refracted  course, 
And  restless  roaring  to  the  humble  vale." 

We  turn  from  the  mountains  but  a  step,  and 
gaze  over  the  broad  bay;  the  foreground  is  com- 
posed of  islands  of  various  shapes  and  sizes ;  and 
we  stand  in  the  midst  of  cultivation,  as  if  nature 
had  resolved  upon  mingling  as  much  grandeur 
and  beauty  as  the  eye  could  take  in  at  once.  We 
turn  again  and  look  inland;  enormous  rocks  are 
scattered  in  all  directions,  without  order  or  ar- 
rangement, but  graceful  from  their  very  confu- 
sion; seeming  as  if  the  giants  of  old  had  done 
battle  here,  and  fought  with  huge  masses  they 
had  wrenched  from  the  adjacent  mountains. 

From  every  part  of  the  glen  some  attractive 
object  may  be  discovered;  but  the  best  view,  per- 
haps, is  to  be  obtained  from  a  small  hill — small 
in  comparison  with  its  stupendous  neighbours 
— in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  a  chapel  west  of 
the  village;  it  places  the  spectator  in  the  very 
centre  of  a  glorious  panorama,  absolutely  be- 
wildering from  its  profusion  of  beauties.  There 
will  be  a  gush  of  enjoyment  from  the  heart  the 
instant  this  hillock  is  ascended.  But  it  is  from 
the  road  to  Kenmare  that  the  surpassing  love- 
liness of  the  valley,  and  the  full  glory  of  the  bay, 
will  be  seen  to  perfection.  For  three  or  four 
miles  the  traveller  winds  round  the  side  of  a 
mountain — a  steep  and  weary  road,  so  barren  of 
interest  that  he  has  ample  leisure  to  ponder 
over,  and  fix  in  his  mind,  the  marvels  he  has 
seen.  Suddenly  he  arrives  on  the  brow  of  the 


228  IRELAND 

hill.  He  is  over  the  glen,  many  thousand  feet 
above  the  ocean,  which  he  beholds  stretching  out 
into  space,  while  the  islands  appear  as  dots  upon 
it;  the  river  that  runs  through  the  valley  has 
dwindled  to  a  white  thread ;  the  trees  have  gath- 
ered into  masses,  and  the  hill  upon  which  he 
stood  a  while  ago  seems  no  bigger  than  a  fairy 
mound.  Midway  down  are  scattered  cottages, 
the  pale  smoke  from  which  alone  distinguishes 
them  from  mole-heaps.  Thin  and  narrow 
streams,  like  snow-wreaths,  are  running  from 
the  mountains;  and  every  now  and  then  his  eye 
falls  upon  the  lakes  that  send  them  forth  to  fer- 
tilise the  valley.  The  whole  scene  is  within  his 
ken — its  sublime  beauty  and  its  transcendant 
grandeur — ocean,  mountain,  glen,  and  river.  He 
is  in  the  midst  of  solitude;  the  clouds  are  on  a 
level  with  him ;  at  times,  they  hide  for  a  moment 
every  object  from  his  sight.  There  is  no  song 
of  bird  to  break  the  perfect  loneliness;  but  if  he 
look  upward  he  will  see  the  eagle  winging  his 
way  homewards  in  solitary  grandeur.  We  were 
startled  by  the  scream  of  one  of  them  flying 
over  our  heaols,  so  near  to  us  that  we  could  al- 
most count  the  feathers  in  his  wing.  Our  feel- 
ing was  that  he  had  seen  enough  of  the  sublime 
and  beautiful  in  Nature,  and  need  go  no  further 
in  search  of  either. 

On  the  summit  of  the  mountain  an  incident 
occurred  to  us,  which  we  may  not  omit  to  notice 
in  this  record  of  the  most  gratifying  and  inter- 
esting portion  of  our  journey: — 

We  had  been  gazing  so  earnestly  upon  the 


CORK  229 

scene  below  and  around  us,  that  we  had  not  noted 
the  sudden  appearance  of  a  lad,  upon  a  bank,  a 
little  to  the  left  of  the  place  on  which  we  stood; 
but  our  attention  was  attracted  by  his  clapping 
his  hands  together,  and  laughing,  or  rather 
shouting  loudly,  in  evident  delight  at  the  scene. 
There  was  nothing  in  his  appearance  different 
from  that  of  many  young  goatherds  we  had 
passed,  and  who  hardly  raised  their  heads  from 
the  purple  heath  to  gaze  at  our  progress.  His 
sun-burnt  limbs  were  bare  below  the  knees;  but 
his  long  brown  hair  had  been  cared  for,  and 
flowed  beneath  a  wide-leafed  hat,  that  was  gar- 
nished, not  untastefully,  by  a  couple  of  wreaths 
of  spreading  fern.  His  garments  were  in  suf- 
ficient disorder  to  satisfy  the  most  enthusiastic 
admirer  of  "the  picturesque;"  and  although 
we  called  to  him  repeatedly,  it  was  not  until  a 
sudden  diffusion  of  cloud  had  interfered  between 
him  and  the  sunset,  so  as  to  diminish  the  light, 
and  of  course  lessen  the  effect  of  the  shadows, 
that  he  noticed  us  in  the  least;  indeed,  it  was 
evident  that  he  would  not  have  done  so  at  all, 
but  for  the  unexpected  appearance  of  another 
"  child  of  the  mist,"  in  the  person  of  a  little 
bright-eyed  girl — literally  one  mass  of  tatters — 
who  sprang  to  where  the  boy  stood,  and  seizing 
his  hand,  pointed  silently  to  us.  He  descended 
immediately,  followed  by  the  girl,  and  after  re- 
moving his  hat,  stood  by  the  side  of  our  carriage, 
into  which  he  peered  with  genuine  Irish  curios- 
ity. 

To  our  question  of  "  Where  do  you  live?  "  the 


230  IRELAND 

mountain  maid  replied,  "  Nein  English."  We 
then  addressed  ourselves  to  the  boy,  when  the  girl 
placed  her  hands  on  her  lips,  then  to  her  ears, 
and  finally  shook  her  head.  "  Deaf  and  dumb  ?  " 
I  asked.  Upon  which  she  replied,  "  Ay,  ay, 
deaf,  dumb — deaf,  dumb."  The  little  creature 
having  so  said,  regarded  him  with  one  of  those 
quick  looks  so  eloquent  of  childish  love ;  and  seiz- 
ing his  hand,  raised  her  rosy  face  to  be  kissed. 
He  patted  her  head  impatiently,  but  was  too 
closely  occupied  examining  the  contents  of  our 
carriage  to  heed  her  affectionate  request.  His 
eye  glanced  over  our  packages  without  much  in- 
terest, until  they  rested  on  a  small  black  port- 
folio ;  and  then  he  leaped,  and  clapped  his  hands, 
making  us  understand  he  wanted  to  inspect  it. 
His  little  companion  had  evidently  some  idea 
that  this  was  an  intrusion,  and  intimated  so  to 
the  boy ;  but  he  pushed  her  from  him,  determined 
to  have  his  own  way.  Nothing  could  exceed  his 
delight  while  turning  over  a  few  sketches  and 
some  engravings.  He  gave  us  clearly  to  under- 
stand that  he  comprehended  their  intent — look- 
ing from  our  puny  outlines  to  the  magnificent 
mountains  by  which  we  were  surrounded,  and 
smiling  thereat  in  a  way  that  our  self-love  could 
not  construe  into  a  compliment. 

While  he  was  thus  occupied,  his  little  compan- 
ion, struck  by  some  sudden  thought,  bounded 
up  the  almost  perpendicular  mountain  with  the 
grace  and  agility  of  a  true-born  Kerry  maiden, 
until  she  disappeared;  but  she  soon  returned, 
springing  from  rock  to  rock,  and  holding  the 


CORK  231 

remnants  of  her  tattered  apron  together  with 
evident  care.  When  she  descended,  she  dis- 
played its  contents,  which  interested  us  greatly; 
for  they  were  her  brother's  sketches,  five  or  six 
in  number,  made  on  the  torn-out  leaves  of  an 
old  copy-book  in  pale  ink,  or  with  a  still  paler 
pencil.  Two  were  tinged  with  colour  extracted 
from  plants  that  grew  upon  the  mountain;  and 
though  rude,  they  bore  evidence  of  talent.  The 
lad  could  have  had  no  instruction ;  the  copy-book 
was  the  property  of  his  eldest  brother,  and  he 
had  abducted  the  leaves  to  record  upon  them  his 
silent  observations  on  the  magnificence  of  Na- 
ture, whose  power  had  elevated  and  instructed 
his  mind.  We  should  not  have  read  even  this 
line  of  his  simple  history,  but  for  the  opportune 
passing  of  another  "  Kerry  Dragoon  " — a  wild, 
brigand-looking  young  fellow,  mounted  between 
his  market-panniers  on  his  rough  pony — who 
proved  to  be  the  lad's  brother,  although  he  did 
not  at  first  tell  us  so. 

"  We  all,"  he  said,  "  live  high  up  in  de  moun- 
tain; but  I  can't  trust  him  to  look  after  de  goats 
by  himself.  His  whole  delight  is  puttin'  down 
upon  a  bit  of  paper  or  a  slate  whatever  he  sees. 
I'd  ha'  broke  him  off  it  long  agone;  but  he  was 
his  mother's  darlin',  and  she's  wid  de  blessed 
Vargin  these  seven  years,  so  I  don't  like  to  cross 
his  fancy;  besides,  de  Lord's  hand  has  been 
heavy  on  him  already,  and  it  does  him  no  harm, 
no  more  than  himself,  except  when  any  of  de 
childer  brake  what  he  do  be  doing;  den  he  goes 
mad  intirely,  and  strays  I  dunna  where ;  though, 


232  IRELAND 

to  be  sure,  de  Almighty  has  his  eye  over  him, 
for  he's  sure  to  come  back  well  and  quiet." 

The  lad  at  last  closed  our  portfolio  with  a  heavy 
sigh,  and  did  not  perceive,  until  he  had  done  so, 
that  his  little  sister  had  spread  out  his  own  pro- 
ductions on  the  heather,  which  grew  so  abun- 
dantly by  the  road-side.  He  pointed  to  them 
with  something  of  the  exultation  of  spirit  so 
natural  to  us  all  when  we  think  our  exertions 
are  about  to  be  appreciated;  and  he  bent  over 
them  as  a  mother  would  over  a  cherished  child. 
His  triumph,  however,  was  but  momentary — it 
was  evident  that  his  having  seen  better  things 
rendered  him  dissatisfied  with  his  own,  for,  while 
gathering  them  hastily  together,  he  burst  into 
tears.  We  gave  him  some  pencils  and  paper, 
and  a  few  engravings ;  and  as  the  evening  was  ap- 
proaching, bade  him  a  hasty  farewell ;  as  he  stood, 
his  little  sister  clinging  to  his  side,  waving  his 
hat  on  a  promontory,  while  we  were  rapidly 
descending  into  the  valley. 

The  village  of  Glengariff  consists  of  but  a  few 
houses;  there  is  a  little  inn,  happily  situated  at 
the  head  of  the  bay;  and  the  glen  is  divided  be- 
tween two  proprietors — Lord  Bantry  and  the 
widow  of  his  brother,  Colonel  White.  His  lord- 
ship has  a  small  lodge,  where  he  generally  resides, 
in  a  valley  away  from  a  view  of  the  sea ;  but  the 
other  seat  skirts  the  left  of  the  bay,  is  cultivated 
to  the  water's  edge,  and  commands  a  view  of  the 
principal  island,  on  which  is  built  a  Martello 


CORK  233 

Tower — as  if  for  the  express  purpose  of  giving 
interest  and  value  to  the  demesne. 

The  old  bridge,  now  a  picturesque  ruin,  which, 
in  ancient  times,  was  on  the  high  road  to  Bere- 
haven,  is  called  "  Cromwell's  Bridge."  History 
being  silent  as  to  the  origin  of  the  name,  we  must 
have  recourse  to  tradition.  When  Oliver  was 
passing  through  the  glen  to  visit  the  O'Sullivans, 
he  had  so  much  trouble  in  getting  across  the  nar- 
row but  rushing  river,  that  he  told  the  inhabitants, 
if  they  did  not  build  him  a  bridge  by  the  time 
he  returned,  he  would  hang  up  a  man  for  every 
hour's  delay  he  met  with.  "  So  the  bridge  was 
ready  agin  he  come  back,"  quoth  our  informant; 
"  for  they  knew  the  ould  villain  to  be  a  man  of 
his  word." 

The  demesne  which  surrounds  the  lodge  of 
Lord  Bantry  cannot  be  surpassed  for  natural 
beauty  by  any  scenery  in  the  kingdom.  A  wild 
river  runs  through  it,  and  this  is  frequently  crossed 
by  rustic  bridges.  The  lodge  itself  occupies  the 
centre  of  a  small  island,  and  from  several  mounds 
glimpses  may  be  obtained  of  near  or  distant  ob- 
jects, which  are  absolute  feasts.  As  we  stand 
upon  the  highest  of  them,  nothing  can  be  more 
delicious,  more  varied,  more  positively  enchant- 
ing, than  the  panoramic  view  that  surrounds  us : 
mountain,  rock,  river,  and  ocean,  trees  of  the 
most  picturesque  growth,  and  shrubby  under- 
wood of  such  luxuriance,  that  painters  there  may 
study  nature  under  every  shade  and  form.  As 
we  issue  from  this  demesne — the  very  ideal  of 


234  IRELAND 

"  the  happy  valley  " — the  wild,  rugged,  abrupt 
character  of  the  glen  becomes  more  apparent; 
patches  of  rich  brown  bog  produce  the  most  pro- 
fuse vegetation;  marsh  weeds  of  every  hue 
flourish;  rocks  of  various  shapes  and  sizes  be- 
come the  bases  of  now  sloping,  now  almost  per- 
pendicular hills;  while  above  them  continually 
floats  the  eagle,  whose  nests  have  been  in  these 
mountains  time  out  of  mind.77 

We  grieve  for  those  who — no  matter  what 
charming  and  picturesque  countries  of  Europe 
they  have  visited — have  not  yet  enjoyed  the 
natural  beauties  of  Glengariff. 

West  of  Glengariff  is  the  promontory  of  Bere- 
haven,  separating  Bantry  Bay  from  the  Ken- 
mare  river.  It  is  a  wild  and  primitive  district; 
abounding  in  picturesque  and  romantic  scenery; 
full  of  legends;  with  historical  associations  of 
great  interest;  and  possessing  the  ruins  of  many 
castles  of  the  O'Sullivans — for  centuries  the  lords 
of  the  soil,  although  their  descendants  are  now 
but  the  hewers  of  stone  and  drawers  of  water. 
The  accompanying  print  represents  the  harbour 
of  Berehaven,  and  the  ruin  of  the  ancient  castle 
of  Dunboy.78  (See  Plate  No.  4.) 

In  the  parish  of  Berehaven  is  worked  one  of 
the  few  profitable  mines  of  Ireland.  It  is  situ- 
ated on  the  property  of  a  Mr.  Puxley,  and  was 
discovered  some  thirty  years  ago — the  discovery 
being  the  result  of  a  very  minute  scrutiny  of  the 
estate  of  Colonel  Hall,  who  was  at  the  period 
working  his  own  mines  in  neighbouring  districts 
of  the  county. 


CORK  235 

We  are  now  about  to  quit  the  county  of  Cork, 
and  shall  next  visit  Carlow;  and  although  we 
have  occupied,  in  describing  Cork,  a  much  larger 
space  than  the  limits  of  our  work  will  justify  us 
in  devoting  to  any  other  county,  we  are  fully 
aware  that  we  have  omitted  to  direct  the  reader's 
attention  to  many  subjects,  connected  with  it, 
of  exceeding  interest  and  deep  importance. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  county  of  Ireland,  to 
which  Nature  has  been  so  bountiful.  To  its 
mineral  wealth  we  have  made  reference;  of  its 
fertile  rivers  we  have  spoken;  its  bays  and  har- 
bours are  not  only  numerous,  but  singularly  safe 
and  commodious,  abounding  in  fish,  and  rich  in 
the  best  manures;  the  land  is  for  the  most  part 
generous  and  productive;  there  is  scarcely  a  dis- 
trict of  a  dozen  miles  without  turf -fuel.  In  fact, 
in  nothing  are  the  wants  of  men  without  the  natu- 
ral means  of  supply,  yet  the  population  is  prover- 
bially poor,  the  houses  of  the  lower  classes  are 
generally  wretched  to  a  degree,  and  Providence 
would  seem  to  have  lavished  gifts  in  vain  upon  its 
people.  These  evils — and  others  to  which  we 
need  not  here  more  distinctly  refer — must  be,  as 
they  have  always  been,  mainly  attributable  to  that 
system  of  absenteeism  which,  for  centuries  past, 
appears  to  have  largely  prevailed  in  Cork 
county.79 

The  county  of  Cork,  in  the  province  of  Mun- 
ster,  is  the  largest  county  in  Ireland,  and  larger 
than  any  English  county,  except  that  of  York: 
comprising,  according  to  the  Ordnance  survey, 
1,725,100  statute  acres — of  which,  1,024,340  are 


236  IRELAND 

cultivated,  and  700,760  are,  at  present,  either 
barren  mountain  or  bog;  but,  as  every  day  some 
portion  of  both  is  reclaimed  by  the  industry  or 
the  necessity  of  the  peasant,  the  enormous  pro- 
portion of  waste  is  rapidly  lessening.80  In  1821, 
the  population  was  629,786;  and  in  1831  it  had 
increased  to  700,359.  The  new  census  about 
to  be  taken  will,  no  doubt,  exhibit  a  large 
augmentation.  From  east  to  west  the  county 
extends  about  ninety  English  miles;  its  great- 
est breadth  being  about  forty.  We  take  this  on 
the  authority  of  the  Rev.  Horace  Townsend; 
Smith  makes  it  greater.  It  is  bounded  on  the 
north  by  Tipperary  and  Limerick ;  on  the  north- 
east by  Waterford;  on  the  north-west  by  Kerry 
— being  considerably  wider  in  the  centre  than  at 
the  extremities;  and  on  the  south  by  the  Ocean. 
By  the  statute  of  the  4th  Geo.  IV.  cap.  93,  the 
county  was  divided  into  the  East  and  West 
Ridings;  the  East  comprising  eleven  baronies,81 
with  the  liberties  of  the  city  of  Cork,  and  the 
port  of  Kinsale ;  and  the  West,  eight  baronies. 

These  baronies  are,  in  the  East  Riding, — 
Duhallow,  Orrery  and  Kilmore,  Condons  and 
Clongibbons,  Fermoy,  Kinsale,  Imokilly,  Ker- 
rycurrihy,  Kinnalea,  Barrymore,  Barretts,  and 
East  Muskerry;  in  the  West  Riding, — Ibane 
and  Barryroe,  Bere,  Bantry,  West  Muskerry, 
Kinalmeaky,  Courcies,  East  Carbery,  and  West 
Carbery. 

The  principal  towns  of  the  county,  besides  the 
city  of  Cork,  are,  Youghal,  Kinsale,  Bandon, 


CORK  237 

Mallow,    Cove,    Bantry,    Fermoy,    Skibbereen, 
Macroom,  and  Dunmanway. 

The  county  sends  only  eight  members  to  the 
Imperial  Parliament:  two  for  the  county,  two 
for  the  city,  and  one  for  each  of  the  towns  of 
Bandon,  Kinsale,  Mallow,  and  Youghal. 


CARLOW 

The  inland  county  of  Carlow  is  of  small  ex- 
tent, being  about  twenty-six  Irish  miles  in  length 
from  north  to  south,  and  twenty-three  in  breadth 
from  east  to  west :  and  it  possesses  no  feature  of  a 
peculiar  or  exclusive  character.  We  have,  there- 
fore, chosen  to  close  with  it  the  first  volume  of 
our  work,  because — as  it  will  require  but  a  limited 
notice — we  shall  thus  be  enabled  to  introduce 
other  topics  of  more  importance,  or  that  are  likely 
to  have  greater  interest  for  our  readers. 

It  is  in  the  province  of  Leinster;  bounded  on 
the  north  and  north-west  by  the  Queen's  County 
and  the  county  of  Kildare;  on  the  west  by  the 
county  of  Kilkenny;  and  on  the  east  and  south- 
east by  the  counties  of  Wicklow  and  Wexf ord. 
It  comprises,  according  to  the  ordnance  survey, 
an  area  of  219,863  acres,  of  which  196,833  are 
cultivated  land,  and  23,030  mountain  and  bog. 
The  population  was  in  1795,  44,000;  in  1821,  it 
had  increased  to  78,952;  and  in  1831,  to  81,649. 
It  contains  six  baronies — Carlow,  Forth,  Idrone, 
east  and  west,  Rathvilly,  and  St.  Mullins;  and 
its  principal  towns  are  Carlow,  Leighlin-B  ridge, 
Tullow,  Bagenalstown,  and  Hacketstown.  The 
county  is  thickly  studded  with  the  seats  of  resi- 
dent gentry — very  few  of  its  "  landed  proprie- 
tors "  being  absentees. 

238 


CARLOW  239 

The  town  of  Carlow  is  seated  on  the  east  bank 
of  the  river  Barrow,  the  "  goodlie  Barrow," 82 
as  Spenser  terms  it;  its  source  is  in  the  Slieve 
Bloom  mountains,  in  the  Queen's  County,  and 
passing  through  the  towns  of  Portarlington, 
Monastereven,  Athy,  Carlow,  Leighlin-Bridge, 
and  Graigue-nemanagh,  it  forms  a  junction  with 
the  Nore,  and  both  join  the  Suir,  a  few  miles 
from  Water  ford.  The  Barrow  is  navigable  for 
a  distance  of  forty-three  miles. 

The  town  is  modern  in  its  general  aspect,  pre- 
senting a  singular  contrast  to  its  neighbour,  the 
city  of  Kilkenny — so  full  of  magnificent  castel- 
lated and  monastic  remains.  The  only  ancient 
relic  in  Carlow  is  "  the  Castle."  It  is  situated 
on  a  gentle  eminence,  overlooking  the  river;  and 
is  said  to  have  been  erected  by  Hugh  De  Lacy, 
who  was  appointed  lord-deputy  of  Ireland  in  the 
year  1179.  It  was  built  after  the  Anglo-Nor- 
man style  of  architecture;  a  square  area,  sur- 
rounded by  thick  walls,  fortified  and  strengthened 
at  each  corner  by  a  large  round  tower.  Until 
the  year  1814,  it  had  bravely  withstood  the  at- 
tacks of  time  and  war;  but  its  ruin  was  effected 
by  the  carelessness  of  a  medical  doctor,  into 
whose  hands  it  came,  and  who  designed  to  put 
it  "  in  order  "  for  the  "  accommodation  "  of  in- 
sane patients.  In  the  progress  of  his  work  he 
applied  gunpowder,  with  some  unexplained  ob- 
ject, to  the  foundations,  and  in  a  moment  com- 
pleted its  destruction,  leaving  but  two  of  its 
towers,  and  the  wall  between  them.  Their  pres- 
ent height  is  sixty-five  feet,  and  the  length  from 


240  IRELAND 

one  tower  to  the  other  is  one  hundred  and  five 
feet;  as  the  ruin  is  but  one  side  of  a  square,  it 
affords  a  correct  idea  of  the  large  space  the 
castle  formerly  occupied.  As  it  was  built  to 
protect  the  English  of  the  Pale,  it  occupies 
no  minor  station  in  Irish  history.  In  the 
reign  of  Edward  II.  it  was  made  the  head- 
quarters of  the  seneschalship  of  the  counties 
of  Carlow  and  Kildare,  instituted  in  conse- 
quence of  the  disturbed  state  of  those  dis- 
tricts. In  the  year  1361,  Lionel  Duke  of  Clar- 
ence established  the  exchequer  of  the  kingdom 
in  Carlow,  and  expended  .£500  in  fortifying  it 
with  walls,  of  which  at  present  there  is  not  a 
vestige.  In  1494,  James  Fitzgerald,  brother  of 
the  Earl  of  Kildare,  besieged  the  castle.  The 
lord-deputy,  Sir  Edward  Poynings,  proceeded 
at  once  to  oppose  him,  when,  after  a  brief  siege, 
it  was  surrendered.  In  1534,  Lord  Thomas 
Fitzgerald,  who  with  others  rebelled,  had  pos- 
session of  six  of  the  principal  castles  of  Ireland, 
amongst  which  was  that  of  Carlow.  In  1641, 
the  castle  was  invested  by  a  strong  party,  and 
reduced  to  great  extremity.  A  number  of  Eng- 
lishmen had  taken  refuge  within  its  walls,  and  the 
garrison  was  about  to  surrender,  when  it  was 
relieved  by  Sir  Patrick  Wemys,  on  whose  ap- 
proach the  insurgents  raised  the  siege,  and  fled, 
after  burning  the  town;  but  upwards  of  fifty 
were  killed  in  the  pursuit.  Finally,  in  1650,  it 
was  surrendered  by  Captain  Bellew,  commander 
of  the  garrison,  to  Sir  Hardress  Waller,  after 
having  been  bombarded  with  cannon.  A  field 


CARLOW  241 

about  half  a  mile  distant,  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river,  in  the  Queen's  County,  is  still  pointed 
out  as  the  place  where  Waller  planted  his  artil- 
lery on  the  occasion.  Ireton  had  previously 
summoned  it  to  surrender,  but  in  terms  more 
than  usually  courteous;  informing  the  governor 
that  "  we  hare  been  your  gentle  neighbours 
hitherto,  doing  little  more  than  looking  upon  you. 
But  the  time  being  come  now  that  we  are  like 
to  deal  in  earnest  with  your  garrison,  as  effectu- 
ally and  speedily  as  God  shall  enable  us;  that 
I  may  not  be  wanting  on  my  part  to  save  any 
of  the  blood  which  may  be  spilled  therein,  I  am 
willing,  upon  a  timely  surrender,  to  give  terms 
to  so  fair  an  enemy."  The  garrison  was  suf- 
fered to  march  out  with  the  honours  of  war ;  but 
there  are  grounds  for  suspicion  that  its  surrender 
was  effected  by  treachery.  :<  This  treachery," 
says  Carte,  "  was  now  grown  universal,  arising 
sometimes  from  the  fears  of  the  inhabitants, 
and  sometimes  from  the  corruption,  avarice,  or 
cowardice  of  the  garrisons  of  the  towns,  and 
was  the  cause  of  the  loss  of  the  castle  of  Cather- 
logh."  83 

Carlow  is  one  of  the  most  fertile  and  best- 
cultivated  of  the  counties  of  Ireland,  and  has 
been  termed  "  the  garden  of  Erin;  "  it  is  almost 
exclusively  an  agricultural  county,  its  soil  being 
admirably  adapted  for  the  production  of  corn 
of  every  description — a  fact  that  may  account 
for  the  number  of  flour-mills  to  be  found  in  every 
district  of  it,  the  Barrow  affording  great  facil- 
ities for  export  through  the  towns  of  New  Ross 

V— 16 


242  IRELAND 

and  Waterford,  the  river  having  been  rendered 
navigable  for  boats  of  considerable  size;  but  the 
navigation  requires  still  farther  improvement. 
The  principal  mills  are  those  of  Mr.  Alexander, 
at  Milford,  and  the  Lodge  Mills,  at  Bagenals- 
town,  of  which  Mr.  Crosthwaite  is  the  present  pro- 
prietor. The  grain  raised  in  this  county  bears  a 
high  price  in  the  markets  of  London  and  Liver- 
pool; its  butter  also  is  famous,  competing  with 
that  of  Cork  and  Kerry,  and  large  tracts  of  rich 
pasture-land  are  occupied  as  dairy-farms. 

The  establishment  at  Milford  is  one  of  the 
most  extensive  and  celebrated  in  Ireland.  It  is 
situated  about  four  miles  from  Carlow,  on  the 
Barrow,  in  the  centre  of  a  lovely  valley,  through 
which  the  river  runs,  surrounded  by  hills,  and 
with  the  magnificent  mountains,  Leinster,  Black- 
stairs,  and  Brandon,  in  the  back-ground.  The 
roof  of  the  mill  is  flat,  covered  with  terceira, 
formed  of  chalk,  tar,  and  sand;  the  walls  are 
castellated,  so  that  it  has,  from  a  distance,  a  very 
pleasing  and  striking  effect.  Plantations  of 
fine  trees  are  growing  up  around  it,  and  the 
aspect  of  the  whole  neighbourhood  is  remarkably 
cheering,  comfortable,  and  encouraging;  all  giv- 
ing tokens  of  the  improvements  that  are  pro- 
ceeding under  the  direction  of  its  enterprising 
proprietor  and  his  sons.  Roads  have  been 
opened  through  several  of  the  adjacent  moun- 
tains, and  cultivation  has  naturally  followed ;  the 
hedge-rows  in  every  direction  are  as  neatly  and 
carefully  trimmed  as  those  of  England;  the  cot- 
tages are  exceedingly  clean  and  well-ordered, — 


CARLOW  243 

for  they  are  frequently  white-washed,  the  ma- 
terial being  supplied  "  gratis  "  to  every  appli- 
cant;— many  of  them  are  covered  with  climbing 
plants,  and,  together  with  their  sober  and  in- 
dustrious occupants,  bear  unquestionable  evi- 
dence of  the  vast  importance  of  resident  land- 
lords in  improving  the  face  of  the  country 
and  the  social  condition  of  its  population. 

The  mill  was  originally  established  in  1790, 
and  was  commenced  on  a  large  scale;  the  neigh- 
bourhood was  propitious,  the  soil  being  very  rich, 
and  based  on  a  bed  of  limestone,  which  gives 
an  inexhaustible  supply  of  manure.  The  corn 
to  be  converted  into  flour  is  invariably  purchased 
from  the  farmers  or  the  peasantry,  many  of 
whom  grow  only  some  eight  or  ten  barrels,  and 
sell  it  in  order  to  purchase  materials  more  nec- 
essary to  satisfy  their  own  wants — rarely  or 
never  grinding  it  for  their  own  use.  Mr.  Alex- 
ander carries  on  his  trade  in  corn  at  eight  dif- 
ferent places  in  Carlow  and  the  adjoining 
counties,  from  whence  it  is  transported  to  Mil- 
ford,  to  be  converted  into  flour,  and  thence  dis- 
tributed through  the  country  or  exported  to 
the  English  markets;  and  he  largely  manu- 
factures oatmeal,  the  character  of  which  stands 
very  high  in  the  principal  mart — Manchester, 
where  it  bears  the  best  price.  He  has  also  a 
malting-house,  now  in  active  work,  although  this 
branch  was  abandoned  soon  after  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  existing  malt-act,  familiarly  known 
in  Ireland  as  "  the  measure  for  making  smug- 
gling easy." 


244  IRELAND 

Ireland  has  been  termed  "  the  granary  of 
Great  Britain,"  and  it  is  so  to  a  considerable 
extent;  its  manufactures  are  very  limited;  and 
almost  its  whole  population  are  employed  in  the 
cultivation  of  the  soil;  yet  it  is  notorious  that  in 
this  country  there  are  more  acres  capable  of 
raising  food,  unemployed  for  any  beneficial 
purpose,  than  are  to  be  found  in  any  other  coun- 
try of  Europe.  But  every  day  increases  their 
extent  and  their  power;  new  systems  of  farming 
have  been  universally  introduced;  in  many  in- 
stances they  have  doubled  the  produce;  and  in 
many  more  they  have  led  the  proprietors  to  con- 
vert into  arable  land  whole  tracts  of  formerly 
barren  mountain  and  bog.  Irish  farmers  are 
now  losing  their  prejudices  in  favour  of  "  old 
plans ;  "  the  consequence  is  an  enormous  addi- 
tion to  the  natural  resources  of  the  kingdom. 

The  entire  works  at  Milford  are  driven  by 
water  power,  Nature  having  bountifully  sup- 
plied a  force  far  greater  than  that  which  can 
be  derived  from  steam,  and  at  a  cost  infinitely 
less:  it  is,  indeed,  so  great  as  to  be  commensu- 
rate with  the  want  of  it,  even  in  the  hottest  day 
of  summer;  and  an  immense  quantity  is,  at  all 
seasons,  suffered  to  run  idly  to  waste.84  The 
Barrow  is  navigable,  not  only  south  to  Water- 
ford,  but  north  to  Dublin;  through  the  former 
a  large  quantity  of  flour  is  exported  to  England ; 
and  through  the  latter  a  supply,  chiefly  for  home 
consumption,  by  the  river,  to  Athy,  and  thence, 
by  the  Grand  Canal,  to  the  capital;  a  lock  con- 
necting both,  so  that  there  is  no  necessity  for 


CARLOW  245 

transferring  the  loads  from  one  boat  to  another 
during  its  transit. 

The  Milford  works  have  been  constructed 
under  the  superintendence  of  Mr.  William  Fair- 
bairn  of  Manchester;  and  the  chief  water-wheel 
made  by  him,  of  iron,  cast,  hammered,  and  plate, 
is,  we  believe,  the  largest  and  most  powerful 
in  the  kingdom;  taking  the  water  on  twenty- 
two  feet — its  breadth.  It  is  equal  to  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  horse  power.  In  the  two 
establishments  for  producing  flour  and  oatmeal, 
there  are  twenty-two  pair  of  millstones  in  con- 
stant work;  thirteen  of  which,  with  all  the  at- 
tendant machinery,  are  driven  by  the  one  wheel. 
The  concern  is  able  to  manufacture  annually 
60,000  sacks  of  flour — "  without,"  as  one  of  the 
workmen  expressed  it,  "  lighting  a  candle : " 
the  quantity  actually  produced  is  between 
40,000  and  50,000  sacks;  but  in  the  oatmeal 
establishment,  which  is  separate  and  distinct, 
and  where  the  water-wheel  is  eighteen  feet  wide, 
30,000  sacks  are  the  average  annual  produce: 
estimating  the  fiour  at  60s.  per  sack,  and  the 
oatmeal  at  30s.,  we  have  the  aggregate  of  one 
concern  yielding  to  the  country  no  less  than 
£195,000  each  year;  and  this  without  taking  into 
account  the  manufacture  of  malt  in  the  same 
concern.  The  refuse  of  the  oats  is  extensively 
used  for  firing,  by  the  neighbouring  peasantry; 
it  makes  a  remarkably  strong  and  durable  fire. 

We  have  dwelt  at  some  length  upon  this  pe- 
culiar and  very  interesting  feature  of  Ireland, 
in  the  hope  that  we  may  thus  exhibit  its  great 


246  IRELAND 

capabilities  for  adding  to  the  wealth  of  the  nation. 
It  was  said  by  Mr.  Emerson  Tennent,  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  that  there  are  in  Ireland 
1,850  corn-mills — very  few  of  which  are  worked 
by  steam. 

The  county  of  Carlow  was  made  shire-ground 
by  King  John,  under  the  name  of  Catherlogh, 
which  signifies  "the  Castle  by  the  Lake;"  and 
it  comprehends  the  ancient  territories  of  "  Hy 
Cabanagh  and  Hy  Drone,  being  the  northern 
part  of  the  principality  of  Hy  Kinselagh." 
The  representatives  of  many  of  the  earliest  Eng- 
lish settlers,  and  some  few  of  the  descendants 
of  the  ancient  Irish  families,  still  live  upon  their 
hereditary  estates  in  this  county ;  among  the  most 
distinguished  of  the  latter  is  that  of  Kavanagh 
of  Borris-o-kane.85  Their  present  seat — and 
it  has  been  their  chief  seat  for  ages — is  about 
twelve  miles  from  Carlow;  a  noble  and  stately 
castellated  mansion,  in  the  centre  of  a  magnifi- 
cent domain,  where  to  natural  advantages  have 
been  added  all  that  could  be  supplied  by  art; 
and  where  its  late  estimable  owner,  the  repre- 
sentative of  generations  of  remarkable  men, 
sustained  the  old  hereditary  claim  of  his  race  to 
pre-eminence  in  hospitality;  at  the  same  time, 
receiving  from  all  parties  the  character  of  a  just 
man,  a  liberal  landlord,  a  firm  friend,  and  a  true 
patriot.86 

Every  country  has  its  own  peculiar  aristoc- 
racy, which  it  could  no  more  do  without  than  a 
body  could  do  without  a  head.  The  Irish  have 
not  bowed  down  to  the  aristocracy  of  wealth. 


CARLOW  247 

Perhaps  it  is  because  they  have  not  been  tried; 
but  it  will  be  long  ere  the  "  good  ancient  ould 
families  "  will  be  forgotten  in  a  country  which 
owes  whatever  is  grand  about  it,  rather  to  the 
traditions  of  the  past,  than  to  the  realities  of  the 
present.  And  even  if  this  creates  an  unsympa- 
thizing  smile,  there  is  something  far  higher 
toned  in  the  ff  hero-worship  "  which  they  give  to 
the  "  old  families,"  as  connected  with  the  ruins 
that  create  the  romance  and  adornment  of  the 
country,  than  the  ff  mammon-worship"  which, 
more  especially  during  the  last  few  years,  has 
overspread  England  as  a  pestilence. 

Whatever  nourishes  affection  and  devotion  to 
what  is  above  our  sphere,  must  elevate  our  na- 
ture. That  certain  feelings,  in  feudal  times, 
were  greatly  exaggerated,  and  produced  slavish 
instead  of  independent  service,  is  most  true;  but 
there  is  little  danger  of  such  being  the  case  now, 
when  education  gives  men  the  power  of  obtaining 
what  wealth  and  birth  have  denied.  In  Ireland, 
the  lingering  love  that  encircles  old  memories,  is 
like  the  ivy  that  clings  round  the  ruins  of  the  past, 
beautifying  what  it  clings  to.  Some  years  ago  we 
were  strikingly  impressed  with  the  shelter — if 
we  may  so  call  it — which  this  clan-feeling  threw 
over  those  it  felt  bound  to  protect. 

One  of  the  mud  cabins,  which  a  little  outlay, 
and  a  good  deal  of  taste,  had  converted  into  a 
bathing-lodge  on  the  Wexford  coast,  was  taken, 
"  for  the  season,"  by  a  farmer's  wife;  the  saucy 
proprietor,  a  blue-eyed,  but  dark-haired  Barony 
of  Forth  woman,  insinuating,  "  that  to  be  sure 


248  IRELAND 

one  body's  money  was  as  good  as  another;  "  but 
for  her  part  she  would  rather  let  her  little  place 
to  one  of  the  "  real  gentry  "  for  half  the  money, 
than  to  any  stuck-up  inland  farmer.  "  Them 
sort,"  she  added,  "  always  thought  a  deal  of  them- 
selves since  the  war-time,  when  they  made  such 
a  handful  of  goold  somehow;  but  the  woman  got 
over  me  with  her  smooth  talk,  and  her  sweet 
smile,  and  paying  a  month  in  advance,  which  the 
gentry  never  did,  ov  coorse,  nor  I  never  ex- 
pected, and  might  have  been  knocked  down  with 
a  straw  when  it  was  offered:  a  month's  rent  in 
advance — think  of  that! — 'deed  and  I  almost 
thought  it  an  affront;  but  as  it  wasn't  intended 
so,  why  I  took  it,  and  small  blame  any  one  could 
make  of  that  same." 

Some  people  said  that  it  was  very  strange  for 
a  "  sonsy  "  farmer's  wife  to  set  up  for  a  place 
where  the  "  gentry  "  went  to.  They  wondered 
how  she  would  travel,  and  how  many  children 
she  would  bring,  and  if  any  of  them  were 
"  sickly."  The  appointed  day  arrived,  and 
passed,  and  the  "  sonsy  "  farmer's  wife  did  not 
make  her  appearance.  "  To  be  sure,"  the  people 
said  again,  "  she  must  have  more  money  than  she 
knew  what  to  do  with.  She  would  come  to  her 
time  any  how."  Every  sound  along  the  road 
was  watched,  until  the  first  week  of  the  month 
was  gone.  More  than  one  congratulated  the 
little  bright-eyed  landlady  on  having  her  "  rent 
and  no  trouble;  "  while  she  declared  she  would 
rather  have  good  Christians  in  the  house  with  her, 
"  getting  their  health  and  the  salt  water,"  than 


CARLOW  249 

be  the  way  she  was;  it  was  so  pleasant  to  see 
them  that  came  from  the  close  towns,  without 
any  colour  on  their  cheeks,  and  with  hardly 
strength  to  breathe  heaven's  air,  grow  fresh  and 
rosy,  and  come  out  of  the  sea  full  of  new  life, 
climbing  the  cliffs  after  the  green  samphire,  and 
hunting  the  holes  in  the  bank  for  "  penny- 
wincles,"  tattering  the  rocks  to  pieces  for  the 
"  branyans,"  tearing  through  the  soft  sand  after 
shrimps,  and  watching  the  floating  holes  of  the 
razor-fish,  getting  their  toes  pinched  by  the 
cockles,  and  their  fingers  bit  to  the  bone  by  the 
cunning  ould  lobsters,  who  would  not  come  out 
of  their  dens.  And  the  children — the  poor  weak, 
sickly  children — as  limp  as  a  wet  bathing  dress! 
— to  see  how  one  week  at  the  "  salt  water  "  put 
bones  into  them ;  how  the  flabby  flesh  grew  hard 
and  red,  and  the  cheeks  rosy,  and  their  voices 
strong;  and  how  delighted  the  poor  mothers  would 
be  to  see  them  eat — maybe  more  than  they'd  be 
able  to  pay  for — but  small  matter  that ;  the  gentry 
always  helped  the  child  of  the  poor  bather! 

The  little  woman  declared  she  was  "mighty 
dull  in  herself,"  and  wished  the  farmer's  wife 
had  her  money  back,  for  she  was  "  heart  sore  " 
from  waiting.  How  her  lazy  neighbours  envied 
her,  and  said  she  had  "  the  luck,"  ever  and  al- 
ways! 

At  last  the  farmer's  wife  arrived!  How  she 
"  travelled  "  no  one  knew;  it  must  have  been  in 
the  night,  for  no  one  had  seen  her  arrive  in  the 
approved  style  of  a  farmer's  wife — a  feather- 
bed, covered  with  a  quilt  of  many  colours,  being 


250  IRELAND 

placed  on  a  common  car,  in  the  midst  of  which 
the  good  woman  sat,  while  a  bare-legged  "  gos- 
soon "  dangled  his  legs  from  the  shaft,  and 
urged  the  horse  forward  by  means  of  the  end  of 
the  rope  halter,  which  was  carelessly  twisted 
round  its  head.  In  the  course  of  the  day  which 
followed  the  arrival,  a  rumour  spread  along  the 
coast  that  the  farmer's  wife  had  not  come  alone 
— that  "  some  one  "  accompanied  her — and  here 
was  a  new  mystery,  which  is  always  more  at- 
tractive than  the  old. 

While  the  freshness  of  early  day  mingled  with 
the  sea  breeze,  and  before  the  "  bathers  "  sought 
the  strand,  the  farmer's  wife  drew  to  the  beach 
a  sort  of  bath  chair.  It  was  very  old  and  old- 
fashioned,  moving  slowly  on  little  wooden  wheels, 
of  more  modern  workmanship  than  the  body  of 
the  little  carriage.  The  hood  was  partially 
thrown  back,  and  contained  the  wasted  form  of 
an  elderly  lady — a  form  so  wasted,  that  its 
breathing  seemed  almost  a  miracle.  The  fea- 
tures, so  still  and  lifeless,  must  have  once  been 
of  a  noble  and  commanding  beauty — they  stood 
out  then  firm  and  expressionless;  and  but  that 
the  open  eyes  were  still  bright  and  blue — so 
bright  as  to  be  painful  to  look  upon — it  might 
be  supposed  that  the  stranger  was  conveying  her 
charge  to  a  funeral  pyre  on  the  sea-shore. 

"  Do  you  feel  any  better,  darling  mistress  ? " 
inquired  the  farmer's  wife,  after  a  long  rest 
where  the  breeze  came  freshly  over  the  waters. 

"Oh,  yes!  oh,  yes!  much  better!"  was  the 
murmured  reply. 


CARLOW  251 

"Thank  God,  thank  God!  Oh,  then,  that's 
the  happy  hearing.  If  I  could  only  see  you 
once  more  able  to  sit  up  in  your  own  fine  ancient 
ould  chair!  Oh,  glory  be  to  God — maybe  that 
will  come  yet."  And  then  kneeling  beside  that 
strange  couch,  she  went  over  her  prayers  to  the 
Almighty,  to  her  Saviour,  to  the  saints,  and  the 
"  Holy  Virgin,"  without,  however,  withdrawing 
her  eyes  or  her  thoughts  from  her  charge — they 
were,  in  a  degree,  mechanical  prayers ;  but  on  she 
went,  until,  at  a  few  half -muttered  words  from 
the  lady,  she  sprung  up,  and  drawing  the  hood 
over  her  patient,  turned  the  little  carriage  home- 
ward. 

Before  Mary  Lawler  (such  was  the  name  of 
the  farmer's  wife)  arrived,  the  tide  of  popular 
opinion  was  decidedly  against  her.  Now,  it  was 
as  decidedly  in  her  favour.  If  before  she  had 
been  a  "  buddagh  of  a  farmer's  wife,  that  was  set- 
ting up  in  the  world  for  what  did  not  become  her ;" 
now  she  was  "  an  honest,  decent,  God-fearing 
woman,  with  a  proper  heart  in  her  body,  God 
bless  her!"  There  was  not  a  man,  woman,  or 
child  in  the  whole  district  who  would  not,  in  com- 
mon parlance,  "have  laid  down  their  lives  for 
her; "  and  why?  she  was  a  simple,  uneducated, 
plain,  elderly  woman.  Her  singing  and  dancing 
days  were  over — she  had  no  "  fun  in  her  " — she 
was  not  rich.  But  in  Ireland  poverty  is  not 
unpopular.  She  never  "  gossipped,"  or  took 
"  a  turn  at  the  pipe,"  or  talked  half  an  hour  with 
a  neighbour  to  "  pass  time ; "  yet  no  popular 


252  IRELAND 

member  before  his  "  trial,"  after  election,  was  half 
so  popular  as  Mary  Lawler. 

A  little  troop  of  children  lingered  round  her 
door,  ready  to  fly  to  do  her  bidding;  the  men 
moved  their  hats  as  she  passed,  and  the  women 
bade  "  God  bless  her;  "  and  why?  because  of  her 
single-hearted  devotion  to  the  last  of  "  the  fine 
ould  family  she  belonged  to." 

In  early  life  she  had  been  the  slave  rather  than 
the  servant  of  the  "  lady,"  whom  she  then  served 
rather  like  a  slave  than  a  free  woman.  The  lady, 
when  young  and  beautiful,  married  and  went 
abroad,  leaving  Mary  broken-hearted,  as  her 
new  "  maid  "  was  a  Frenchwoman,  and  she  had 
no  farther  need  for  the  young  Irish  girl.  In 
time  Mary  also  married,  her  husband  reconcil- 
ing his  family  to  the  distasteful  union  of  a  serv- 
ant to  a  farmer,  by  saying,  "  that  indeed  Mary 
had  never  served  for  wages,  but  for  the  love  she 
bore  the  young  lady  under  whom  her  family  had 
always  lived."  This  was  true.  It  insured 
Mary  a  good  reception,  which  as  a  "  paid " 
servant  she  would  hardly  have  had.  Years 
passed  on,  the  old  master  died,  leaving  "  every- 
thing "  to  his  daughter.  The  "  everything " 
was  worse  than  "  nothing,"  for  it  entailed  debts 
on  her  thoughtless  husband,  who  ill-treated  her 
while  he  lived,  and  at  his  death  left  her  upon 
the  world.  The  world  owed  her  nothing.  Vain, 
beautiful,  headless  if  not  heartless,  she  had  none 
of  the  accumulated  treasures  of  a  well-spent  life 
to  comfort  her  old  age,  and  therefore  had  noth- 
ing to  expect.  She  had  laid  no  virtue  out  to 


CARLOW  253 

interest,  and,  consequently,  had  no  return  to  look 
for.  Worn  out,  friendless,  pennyless,  she  came 
to  the  old  neighbourhood,  to  wander  like  a 
banshee  around  the  crumbled  walls  of  her  an- 
cestral estate.  There  were  none  left  of  her  own 
caste  to  show  her  kindness.  The  greater  num- 
ber of  the  tenants  and  cottars  on  the  estate, 
which  with  singular  pertinacity  she  still  de- 
clared ought  to  have  been  hers,  had  emigrated. 
There  seemed  to  be  no  roof  to  shelter  her,  for 
she  sat  within  the  roofless  walls  of  her  once  home. 
The  rain  poured,  and  a  thick  mist,  as  thick  as 
misery,  closed  her  in  on  every  side.  Ill  in  body 
as  in  mind,  she  leaned  her  distracted  head  against 
a  column  of  the  dining-room,  and  wept  such  tears, 
as  it  is  to  be  hoped  never  can  gush  from  such 
eyes  as  look  upon  this  page. 

"  You  don't  know  me,  ma'am  dear,"  said  an 
earnest  broken  voice  amid  the  storm,  "  but  I 
know  you;  the  colleen  has  grown  into  a  woman, 
and  has  brought  children  into  the  world  to  sarve 
you,  and  wait  upon  you,  my  lady.  Why  not? 
Sure  my  people  did  the  same  hundreds  of  years 
before  I  was  born;  and  my  husband  said,  '  Go, 
Mary,  and  offer  the  lady  the  best  of  what  we 
have.  You've  been  a  good  and  faithful,  loving 
and  industrious  wife,  and  sure  your  duty  is  my 
pleasure.'  And  maybe,  lady  dear,  you'd  stay 
with  us,  just  for  the  sake  of  your  native  air.  It's 
but  a  poor  place  to  what  you're  used  to,  I  know 

that;  but  still "     Her  invitation  was  broken 

by  her  sobs ;  but  it  was  earnest,  and  was  accepted 
— not  gratefully,  but  rather  as  a  tribute  she  (the 


254  IRELAND 

lady)  had  a  right  to  expect.  The  best  bed,  the 
freshest  egg,  "  the  bit  of  meat,"  the  sweetest  milk, 
and  "  whitest  bread,"  were  laid  before  "  the  mis- 
tress " — before  the  homeless,  houseless,  pennyless 
woman — by  the  descendant  of  peasants,  who 
never  received  what  the  English  peasant  would 
consider  "  fair  treatment  "  from  the  house  they 
worshipped.  "  I  can  afford  it,  thank  God,"  said 
the  husband,  who  owed  her  no  fealty,  "  and  if  I 
could  not,  she  should  have  it  all  the  same.  It's 
hard  if  I  couldn't  afford  as  much  as  that,  in  re- 
membrance of  an  ancient  ould  family.  I  do  my 
'best  to  love  her,  poor  lady,  just  to  please  Mary, 
who  would  with  a  heart  and  a  half  lay  her  aching 
bones  upon  a  lock  of  straw,  and  put  her  mistress 
on  a  swan's  breast,  if  she  could.  But,  poor  thing  1 
her  temper's  not  sweet,  and  no  wonder;  though 
it's  not  much  matter,  for  the  crosser  she  is,  the 
more  Mary  tries  to  take  the  crossness  off  her, 
feeding  her  up  with  the  memory  of  the  past,  and 
making  it  seem  the  present."  The  farmer's  wife 
regretted  that  her  children  did  not  feel  all  she 
felt  towards  the  "  mistress "  and  the  "  ould 
times ;  "  but  she  said,  there  were  new  fashions  and 
feelings — maybe  they  were  better  than  the  ould, 
but  she  did  not  know.  She  was  almost  afraid 
they  were  not.  Any  how,  ever  since  the  mistress 
came,  their  blessings  had  increased — they  all 
knew  that;  and  certainly  the  good  woman,  who 
had  a  long  time  been  talking  of  resting  from  her 
labours,  seemed  to  work  harder  than  ever;  while 
no  one  but  herself  could  have  borne  the  tyranny 
she  had  brought  into  her  house.  She  laboured 


CARLOW  255 

hard  to  conceal  this  from  her  husband,  and  he, 
with  marvellous  kindness,  pretended  not  to  see  it ; 
but  he  could  hardly  conceal  his  vexation,  when  his 
wife  told  him  that  the  "  mistress  "  had  "  taken  a 
notion  before  death,"  and  would  go  to  "  the  salt 
water."  "  It's  the  last  notion  she'll  ever  take, 
Mick,  honey,  and  give  her  her  way  this  onst.  It's 
all  I'll  ask  ov  you.  'Deed  it  will  do  me  good,  and 
take  the  pains  out  of  my  bones,  and  the  impression 
off  my  heart,  maybe." 

The  kind  farmer  knew  better;  but  smiled  at 
the  stroke  of  womanly  cunning,  which  he  told  her 
was  not  needed.  "  You're  making  a  smooth  bed 
for  yourself  in  heaven,  Mary,"  he  said,  "  and  I'll 
not  stand  betwixt  you  and  the  duty  you  owe  the 
fine  ould  family  that  owned  you"  But  what  the 
farmer's  wife  said  was  true — it  was  the  restless- 
ness of  approaching  death  which  caused  the  poor 
lady's  desire  to  catch  at  every  straw  of  life ;  odious 
as  she  said  life  was,  still  she  clung  to  it.  It  was 
better  than  the  dull,  dark,  forgetful  grave,  be- 
yond which  she  saw  no  light.  She  would  be 
drawn  to  the  beach  every  day,  and  would  not  suf- 
fer any  creature  but  Mary  to  wait  upon  her. 
Poor  Mary,  the  pains  in  her  bones,  and  the  "  im- 
pression about  her  heart,"  increased;  and  every 
one  called  it  a  "  mercy  "  when  "  the  lady  "  died. 
It  was  in  vain  the  farmer's  wife  was  entreated  to 
suffer  her  "  mistress  "  to  be  buried  in  the  nearest 
churchyard. 

"No,"  she  answered;  "she  is  the  last  of  her 
line,  and  she  must  rest  with  her  own  people." 
And  so  she  laid  her  in  a  decent  coffin,  for  which 


256  IRELAND 

the  carpenter  would  take  no  coin;  and  all  "the 
neighbours "  followed  the  corse,  blessing  the 
"  farmer's  wife,"  as  she  sat  at  the  coffin's  foot, 
talking  of  ould  times,  and  ould  families,  not  so 
much  with  affection  or  even  respect,  but  with  a 
sort  of  duty- feeling,  that,  because  they  had  been 
"  long  on  the  land,"  they  were  entitled  to  their 
service  and  devotion.  These  creatures  formed 
a  procession,  and  accompanied  the  corse  many  a 
weary  mile,  until  the  farmer's  wife  was  met  by 
the  farmer-husband,  and  the  priest  of  her  own 
parish,  and  her  own  friends;  and,  strangers  as 
they  were  to  each  other,  the  people  exchanged 
words  of  sympathy  and  kindness,  praising  the 
good  woman's  devotion  to  her  mistress — and 
then  the  sea-side  peasants  returned  home.  The 
corse  was  "  waked  "  one  night  in  its  "  native  " 
halls,  and  then  deposited  amid  its  ancestral  dust 
— the  farmer's  wife  thankful  to  the  last  that, 
"  though  indeed  the  mistress,  God  help  her!  was 
a  weary  ould  body  at  the  last,  still  it  was  a  bless- 
ing to  be  able  to  do  my  duty  to  an  ancient  ould 
family,  that  me  and  mine  lived  under  for  more 
than  two  hundred  years!  " 

The  early  history  of  Carlow  county  is  of  great 
interest;  long  prior  to  the  Anglo-Norman  inva- 
sion it  was  the  scene  of  innumerable  contests 
between  the  kings  and  chieftains  of  the  country; 
and  between  them  again,  and  their  insatiate  foes, 
the  Danes;  and  many  singular  anecdotes  illus- 
trating the  uncivilised  character  of  the  times  are 
recorded,  upon  the  somewhat  apocryphal  au- 
thority of  Keating  and  O'Halloran.87 


CARLOW  257 

The  history  of  the  struggle  between  the  native 
Irish  and  the  handful  of  Welsh  invaders,  how- 
ever, rests  upon  more  authentic  documents. 
Carlow  was  for  a  considerable  period  the  battle- 
field of  the  contending  parties ;  and  here  Strong- 
bow  was  assailed  by  a  formidable  force  under 
the  command  of  O'Ryan,  a  native  chieftain,  who 
would  have  gained  a  decisive  victory  but  for  the 
fall  of  their  leader,  who  was  killed  by  an  arrow 
from  the  bow  of  "  a  monk  named  Nicholas,"  an 
attendant  upon  the  English  army.  The  scene 
of  the  rencontre  was  subsequently  called  "  the 
Earl's  Pass ;  "  and  it  is  memorable  as  the  place 
where  the  most  tragic  incident  of  the  war  oc- 
curred. Strongbow's  only  son,  it  is  said,  a 
youth  of  seventeen  years  of  age,  was  so  dis- 
mayed by  the  numbers  and  savage  demeanour 
of  the  Irish,  that  he  fled  in  terror  to  Dublin ;  but 
learning  that  his  friends  had  escaped,  he  re- 
turned to  congratulate  them  on  their  safety; 
when  his  father — emulating  the  old  Roman — 
after  upbraiding  him  with  his  cowardice,  ordered 
him  to  be  immediately  executed:  some  histori- 
ans assert,  indeed,  that  he  actually  slew  the  boy 
himself,  by  hewing  his  body  in  two  parts  with  a 
single  blow  of  his  sword. 

When  matters  had  been  comparatively  set- 
tled, and  King  John  had  elevated  Catherlogh 
into  a  county,  he  granted  the  principality  of  Lein- 
ster  to  William,  Earl  Marshal,  whom  he  created 
Earl  of  Pembroke,  and  to  whom  the  erection  of 
many  of  the  castles,  besides  that  of  Carlow,  may 
be  traced.8 

V— 17 


258  IRELAND 

The  native  Irish,  "  the  pestilent  infesters  of 
the  Pale,"  as  they  are  generously  termed  by  con- 
temporary historians,  continued  for  centuries  to 
make  Carlow  their  "  harbour,"  from  which  they 
continually  broke  out  to  worry  their  unwelcome 
neighbours ;  and  they  reduced  the  county  to  such 
straits,  that  the  return  to  the  writ  summoning 
a  Parliament,  in  1332,  contained  this  remark- 
able passage: — "  Having,  by  virtue  of  this  writ, 
called  before  me  the  Commons  of  the  County, 
they  unanimously  allege  that  there  is  no  layman 
able,  by  reason  of  poverty,  from  the  frequent 
robberies  and  depredations  of  the  Irish  enemies, 
to  meet  our  sovereign  lord  the  King  in  his  Par- 
liament in  England."  Out  of  this  state  of 
things,  and  in  this  county,  is  said  to  have  origi- 
nated the  custom  of  "  Coygne  and  Livery," — 
for  so  long  a  period  a  fertile  source  of  misery  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Ireland.  It  is  thus  described 
and  characterised  by  Sir  John  Davis: — "The 
most  wicked  and  mischievous  custom  of  all  others 
was  that  of  coygne  and  livery,  often  before  men- 
tioned; which  consisted  in  taking  man's  meat, 
horse  meat,  and  money,  of  all  the  inhabitants  of 
the  country,  at  the  will  and  pleasure  of  the  sol- 
dier, who,  as  the  phrase  of  scripture  is,  did  eat 
up  the  people  as  it  were  bread,  for  that  he  had  no 
other  entertainment." 

In  later  times,  the  county  of  Carlow  has  oc- 
cupied no  prominent  position  in  the  history  of 
Ireland,  nor  have  any  of  its  towns  been  at  all  re- 
markable. There  is,  however,  one  of  them  that 


CARLOW  259 

ranks  among  the  most  interesting  of  the  king- 
dom. 

Leighlin — "  Old  Leighlin  " — although  now 
dwindled  to  a  small  village,  was  in  ancient 
times  a  place  of  great  importance,  and  is  still  an 
episcopal  see,  but  united,  in  the  year  1600, 
to  that  of  Ferns,  in  the  county  of  Wexford. 
The  bishopric  is  said  to  have  been  established 
so  early  as  the  year  632;  and  it  is  stated  by 
Archdall,  that  its  founder,  St.  Laserian,  had 
"  at  one  time  1,500  monks  under  his  juris- 
diction."89  "The  cathedral  (which  is  of  the 
plainest  Gothic  architecture)  consists  of  a  nave 
and  chancel.  The  length  of  the  nave  is  eighty- 
four  feet ;  that  of  the  chancel,  sixty  feet ;  breadth, 
twenty-one  feet.  In  the  nave  is  a  large  stone 
baptismal  font,  sustained  by  a  pedestal  which 
rests  upon  a  raised  foundation  six  feet  square. 
The  font  is  at  the  height  of  about  five  feet  from 
the  floor  of  the  nave.  A  very  curiously-worked 
arch  of  stone  may  be  observed  over  part  of  the 
nave.  The  entire  side  is,  with  the  usual  bad 
taste,  whitewashed.  The  belfry  tower  is  about 
sixty  feet  in  height,  and  has  a  mean  sort  of  slated 
spire  on  top;  which,  from  its  pigmy  size,  and 
general  unsuitableness  to  the  building  on  which 
it  is  erected,  has  the  worst  possible  effect. 
Winding  stone  steps  are  continued  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  belfry;  forty  steps  lead  to  the 
first  landing-place,  after  which  twenty-two 
more,  of  very  narrow  construction,  conduct 
to  the  top."  In  the  immediate  vicinity  of 


260  IRELAND 

Leighlin,  is  a  remarkable  and  very  picturesque 
"  Rath,"  and  close  to  the  cathedral  is  the  well  of 
St.  Laserian.  It  was  a  few  years  ago  a  famous 
resort  of  the  peasantry  on  the  Saint's  day,  the 
18th  of  April;  but  Mr.  Ryan  informs  us  that  the 
patron  was  very  properly  prohibited  by  the  par- 
ish priest,  and  it  is  now  "  no  longer  the  scene  of 
gambling  and  intoxication."  Two  very  old  ash 
trees  and  a  whitethorn,  which  formerly  over- 
shadowed the  well,  were  cut  down  (about  1823) 
by  the  late  Capt.  Vigors,  of  Erindale,  who  leased 
a  considerable  tract  of  land  here  from  the  see  of 
Leighlin.  The  whitethorn  was  formerly  hung 
with  all  sorts  of  rags  by  the  devotees,  pilgrims,  or 
visitors  to  this  holy  spot.  At  present  the  well  is 
almost  choked  up  with  mud,  and  is  hardly  dis- 
tinguishable from  the  marsh  by  which  it  is  en- 
compassed. About  ten  yards  from  the  well 
stands  a  rude  stone  cross,  five  feet  in  height. 
The  whole  is  surrounded  by  a  low  straggling 
ditch. 

As  the  other  towns  of  Carlow  county  afford  us 
little  matter  for  description  or  comment,  we  shall 
avail  ourselves  of  the  opportunity  to  supply  the 
information  we  have  gathered  in  reference  to  the 
existing  "  Constabulary  Force  "  of  Ireland. 

During  our  latest  visit  to  Ireland,  we  had 
frequent  opportunities  of  testing  the  advantages 
that  had  accrued  to  the  community  at  large,  from 
the  admirable  mode  in  which  this  force  is  con- 
ducted. Our  attention  was  first  attracted  by  the 
exceedingly  neat  and  clean-looking  houses,  fitted 


CARLOW  261 

up  as  their  barracks,  in  many  instances  built  ex- 
pressly for  them,  and  the  remarkably  soldier-like 
air  and  manner  of  the  fine-looking  young  men 
who  compose  the  corps.90  The  closer  our  in- 
quiries, the  more  we  became  convinced  that  we 
must  attribute  to  the  skilful  and  wise  system 
under  which  it  is  managed,  no  inconsiderable  por- 
tion of  that  improvement  we  have  noticed  as 
evident  in  all  parts  of  the  country;  and  we  soon 
arrived  at  the  conclusion,  that  it  need  excite  no 
surprise  to  find  government  enabled  to  withdraw 
the  army  from  Ireland,  when  its  place  is  supplied 
by  a  force  much  more  shrewd,  active,  and  intelli- 
gent, and  far  more  effective  for  the  purpose 
which  it  is  intended  to  answer.91  Soldiers  were 
at  all  times  available  for  quelling  disturbances; 
but  the  constabulary  have  acted  upon  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  adage,  "  prevention  is  better  than 
cure;  " — as  one  of  its  officers  very  forcibly  ex- 
pressed it  to  us,  they  "  take  off  the  match  before 
the  shell  explodes'1  This  design  is,  indeed,  thus 
distinctly  laid  down  in  one  of  the  earliest  of  the 
printed  "  regulations."  "  In  the  performance  of 
their  duty  as  peace-officers,  they  are  distinctly  to 
understand  that  their  efforts  should  be  princi- 
pally directed  to  the  prevention  of  crime,  which 
will  tend  far  more  effectually  towards  the  security 
of  person  and  property  than  the  punishment  of 
those  who  have  violated  the  laws;  and  the  very 
best  evidence  that  can  be  given  of  the  efficiency 
of  the  police  is  the  absence  of  crime." 

As  the  subject  is  one  of  very  great  interest, 


262  IRELAND 

yet  one  with  which  the  public,  generally,  is  by  no 
means  well  acquainted,  we  may  be  pardoned  for 
treating  it  at  some  length. 

The  first  introduction  of  an  armed  police  force 
into  Ireland  was  in  1787 :  prior  to  that  time,  con- 
stables were  appointed  by  courts-leet,  and  by 
magistrates  in  quarter-sessions.  By  the  27th 
Geo.  III.,  cap.  40,  the  lord-lieutenant  was  em- 
powered to  divide  counties  into  districts,  consist- 
ing of  one  or  more  baronies,  and  to  appoint  a 
chief  constable  to  each  district,  with  an  annual 
salary  not  exceeding  fifty  pounds.  The  grand 
juries  were  empowered  to  appoint  sixteen  sub- 
constables,  "  being  protestants,"  in  each  district, 
and  to  present  a  salary  not  less  than  ten  pounds, 
nor  more  than  twelve  pounds,  for  every  sub-con- 
stable. An  allowance  to  constables  conveying 
prisoners,  and  "  armed  protestants "  assisting 
them,  of  threepence  per  mile,  was  also  made. 
This  act  was  only  carried  into  effect  in  thirteen 
counties.  In  1792,  another  act  was  passed  (32d 
Geo.  III.,  cap.  16),  authorising  the  grand  juries 
of  the  remaining  counties  to  appoint  not  more 
than  eight  constables  in  every  barony  or  half- 
barony,  and  to  present  at  each  assizes 92  four 
pounds  for  every  constable.  The  grand  juries 
were  also  to  raise  two  pounds  per  man  once  in 
twelve  years,  for  arms  and  accoutrements,  with 
the  same  allowance  to  "  armed  protestants,"  as 
in  the  former  act. 

The  constables  appointed  under  the  above 
acts,  although  armed,  wore  no  uniform,  and  in 
general,  if  not  universally,  followed  their  ordi- 


CARLOW  263 

nary  occupations:  they  were  found  so  very  inef- 
ficient, that  in  1814,  Sir  Robert  Peel,  then  chief 
secretary,  introduced,  what  is  generally  termed, 
the  "  Peace  Preservation  Act,"  (54th  Geo.  III., 
cap.  131)  ,93  by  which  the  lord-lieutenant  was  em- 
powered to  appoint  for  any  district  comprising 
a  county,  or  one  or  more  baronies  proclaimed  by 
the  privy  council  as  in  a  state  of  disturbance,  a 
chief  magistrate,94  a  chief  constable,  and  fifty  sub- 
constables,  whose  functions  were  to  cease  on  the 
district  being  declared  tranquil.  By  this  act, 
provision  was  made  for  the  continuance  of  the 
baronial  constables  appointed  under  the  acts  of 
1787  and  1792. 

The  Peace  Preservation  Act  having  been 
found  to  answer  to  a  certain  extent  the  object 
for  which  it  had  been  framed,  induced  the  govern- 
ment to  introduce  a  more  general  measure;  ac- 
cordingly, in  1822,  the  Constabulary  Act  was 
passed.  By  this  act,  the  lord-lieutenant  was  em- 
powered to  appoint  four  general  superintendents 
(one  for  each  province),  and  one  chief  consta- 
ble; and  the  magistrates,  sixteen  sub-constables 
for  each  barony,  half -barony,  or  other  division  of 
a  barony  (being  double  the  number  of  constables 
allowed  by  the  act  of  1782).  The  lord-lieuten- 
ant was  also  authorised  to  appoint  "  resident 
magistrates,"  and  an  extra  number  of  constables 
in  certain  cases.  On  this  act  coming  into  opera- 
tion, the  chief  constables  and  constables  under 
the  acts  of  1787  and  1792  ceased  to  act.  But  the 
"  Peace  Preservation  "  force  of  1814  continued 
in  certain  disturbed  districts  until  October,  1836, 


264  IRELAND 

when  the  constabulary  and  peace  preservation  es- 
tablishments were  consolidated  by  the  6th  Wm. 
IV.,  cap.  13,  and  placed  under  the  control  of  one 
head  (the  inspector-general).  Such  a  measure 
had  long  been  in  contemplation,  and  different 
bills  were  from  time  to  time  brought  before  Par- 
liament, but  not  proceeded  with  beyond  a  second 
reading,  until  Lord  Normanby's  government 
took  the  matter  in  hand,  and  carried  the  present 
act  (6th  Wm.  IV.  cap.  13).  By  this  act,  the 
lord-lieutenant  is  empowered  to  appoint  one  in- 
spector-general, two  deputy  inspectors-general 
(to  be  resident  in  Dublin),  four  provincial  in- 
spectors, thirty-five  sub-inspectors  (now  called 
county  inspectors) — one  for  each  county  and 
riding,  one  chief  constable  (now  called  sub- 
inspector),  two  head  constables,  and  sixteen 
constables  and  sub-constables  for  each  bar- 
ony, half -barony,  or  other  division  of  a  barony; 
also,  one  receiver  and  eighteen  paymasters,  and 
also  an  unlimited  number  of  paid  magistrates. 

It  is  only  necessary  to  contrast,  briefly,  the  ex- 
isting with  the  late  establishments,  to  gain  the 
ready  admission  of  every  impartial  mind,  that  the 
present  is  a  decided  improvement  on  the  former. 
Under  the  old  system  there  were,  first  of  all,  two 
distinct  establishments,  somewhat  analogous  to 
the  line  and  militia,  the  one  being  a  permanent 
force,  the  other  (the  Peace  Preservation)  co-ex- 
isting with  "  disturbance."  These  establish- 
ments were  totally  independent  of  each  other, 
each  acting  under  several  heads,  and  upon  differ- 
ent systems.  Thus  the  constabulary  was  divided 


CARLOW  265 

(by  the  number  of  provinces  in  Ireland)  into  four 
distinct  bodies,  each  under  the  superintendence 
of  a  provincial  inspector-general.  The  power, 
however,  of  appointing  the  subordinate  members 
of  the  force,  that  is,  constables  and  sub-consta- 
bles, and  of  framing  rules  and  regulations  for 
the  control  and  management  of  the  establishment 
of  the  several  counties,  was  vested  in  the  magis- 
trates, subject,  in  the  latter  case,  to  the  approval 
of  the  lord-lieutenant.  Again,  amongst  the  of- 
ficers of  each  county  force  there  was  no  gradation 
of  rank,  and  of  course  no  one  having  any  supe- 
riority; consequently,  each  chief  constable  acted 
independently  within  his  district;  a  few  main- 
tained, in  some  degree,  a  show  of  discipline,  but 
the  majority  preferred  living  quietly,  or,  in  other 
words,  they  permitted  their  men  to  act  pretty 
much  as  they  pleased,  and  did  not  interfere  to 
prevent  the  magistrates  from  employing  them  as 
they  thought  fit.  To  meet,  in  some  measure,  this 
obvious  defect  in  the  act,  and  the  inconveniences 
resulting  therefrom,  the  government  of  the  day, 
as  a  first  step  towards  improvement,  appointed 
one  officer  in  every  county  (under  the  name  of 
sub-inspector),  and  who  was  also  the  paymaster, 
to  superintend  the  force  of  his  county.  Several 
of  these  officers  were  subsequently  placed  in  the 
Commission  of  the  Peace,  and  continued  to  per- 
form, in  addition  to  their  peculiar  duties  as  in- 
spectors and  paymasters,  those  of  a  magistrate, 
efficiently  and  satisfactorily  to  the  public,  with- 
out any  increase  of  pay,  until  the  passing  of  the 
act  in  1836. 


266  IRELAND 

With  respect  to  the  Peace  Preservation  force, 
it  was,  in  like  manner,  subdivided  into  several 
distinct  parties,  each  party  (not  exceeding  one 
chief  constable  and  fifty  constables  and  sub-con- 
stables) being  under  the  superintendence  of  a 
chief  magistrate,  who  had  the  complete  and  sole 
control  of  it,  and  with  which,  under  the  special 
provisions  of  the  act,  the  local  magistrates  had 
no  authority  or  right  to  interfere.  Thus,  with 
two  separate  establishments,  each  divided  under 
several  and  distinct  heads,  all  active  under 
different  systems,  and  under  a  variety  of 
inconsistent  regulations,  it  could  not  be  ex- 
pected that  the  public  service  should  be  prop- 
erly or  efficiently  conducted.  Indeed,  these  man- 
ifest disadvantages  were  not  altogether  unno- 
ticed, nor  left  without  an  effort  being  made  to 
remedy  and  counteract  them.  In  the  majority 
of  the  counties,  the  magistrates  themselves  were 
among  the  first  to  desire  a  change,  and  com- 
menced a  most  wise  and  salutary  reform  by  sur- 
rendering, to  the  inspectors-general  of  their 
respective  provinces,  the  right  to  appoint  con- 
stables, which,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  had  not  been 
very  judiciously  exercised.  In  some  counties  a 
man's  religion  formed  a  principal  consideration 
whether  he  should  be  admitted  into  the  force  or 
not.  The  number  of  persons  too,  generally 
known  by  the  name  of  "  Followers'3  who  ob- 
tained appointments  was  numerous,  and,  as  a 
consequence,  these  individuals  were  more  the 
servants  of  their  patrons  than  of  the  public,  in 
many  instances  acting  as  their  stewards,  gate- 


CARLOW  267 

keepers,  game-keepers,  or  wood-rangers,  &c. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  men  nominated  by  the 
inspectors-general  were  selected  without  refer- 
ence to  their  religious  faith,  and  not  until  after 
strict  inquiry  into  their  characters  and  general 
fitness  for  the  service  as  regarded  both  their  lit- 
erate and  physical 95  qualifications ;  and,  as  a  fur- 
ther improvement,  they  were  removed  from 
among  their  own  relations  and  friends,  and  from 
local  influence — the  bane  of  all  discipline.  It 
should  be  observed,  that  some  persons  entertain 
the  opinion  that,  inasmuch  as  local  knowledge  is 
of  the  first  importance  to  a  policeman,  "  no  man 
should  be  removed  from  his  native  county,  with 
the  localities  of  which  he  is  supposed  to  be  well 
acquainted."  But  it  will  be  obvious  that  the  ob- 
jections against  so  fixing  them  are  numerous  and 
strong,  especially  in  Ireland,  where  the  claims  of 
relationship  and  "  party  "  are  frequently  para- 
mount to  all  others ;  and  it  will  be  equally  appar- 
ent that  greater  confidence  will  be  placed  by  all 
the  inhabitants  of  a  district  in  a  body  known 
to  have  no  predilections  towards  any.  Indeed, 
those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  Irish  character 
will  have  no  difficulty  in  arriving  at  the  conclu- 
sion, that  the  arrangement,  by  which  the  natives 
of  one  part  are  located  in  another  part,  was  ex- 
ceedingly rational  and  judicious. 

The  propriety  of  the  measure  adopted  by  the 
magistracy  of  the  majority  of  the  counties,  in 
surrendering  to  the  inspector-general  their  right 
of  appointment,  was  soon  manifested  in  the  im- 
proved appearance,  description,  and  discipline  of 


268  IRELAND 

the  men  selected  by  the  inspector-general,  over 
those  of  the  counties  in  which  the  magistrates 
still  retained  the  right  of  appointment.  There 
was  altogether  a  great  change  for  the  better  in 
the  order  and  cleanliness  of  their  barracks,  which 
before  this  period  were  not  paid  much  attention 
to.  But  a  much  more  important  result  was  pro- 
duced by  this  change  of  system,  and  its  conse- 
quent effect  on  the  discipline  of  the  establish- 
ment; namely,  confidence  on  the  part  of  the 
people  in  general  in  its  members,  and  which  has 
continued  to  increase  as  the  discipline  of  the  force 
has  advanced,  and  all  religious  distinctions  in  the 
selection  of  its  members  have  disappeared.  The 
consequence  is,  that  from  having  been  an  unpop- 
ular force,  it  is  now  quite  the  reverse.  It  is  a  re- 
markable fact  that,  interspersed  as  the  Protestant 
and  Roman  Catholics  are,  in  nearly  1,500  bar- 
racks all  over  the  kingdom,  it  is  of  extremely 
rare  occurrence  indeed  that  any  difference  has 
arisen  on  the  score  of  religion.96 

Thus,  then,  in  a  national  point  of  view,  the 
constabulary  force  has  been,  and  is,  of  the  great- 
est advantage  to  Ireland,  whether  considered 
socially  or  morally.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  a 
comfortable  and  respectable  provision  for  several 
thousands  of  her  natives,  who,  from  the  lives 
which  they  are  obliged  to  lead,  acquire  orderly, 
sober,  cleanly,  and  respectful  habits  and  man- 
ners ;  the  prospect,  too,  of  rising  by  good  conduct 
and  intelligence  to  the  rank  of  officers,  is  not 
only  an  incentive  to  the  former,  but  has  induced 
the  sons  of  very  many  highly  respectable  gentle- 


CARLOW  269 

men  to  enter  the  establishment:  and  as  no  per- 
son is  eligible  to  enter  it  who  cannot  read  and 
write,  it  has,  from  this  circumstance,  effected 
more  towards  the  education  of  the  people  than  is 
perhaps  generally  known. 

The  great  desire  to  obtain  appointments  in  the 
force,  and  the  disgrace  attached  to  a  dismissal 
from  it,  show  the  value  the  people  set  on  a  situ- 
ation in  it.97 

With  respect  to  the  appointment  of  officers,  a 
regulation  exists  that  no  appointment  is  to  be 
considered  confirmed  until  the  individual  nomi- 
nated has  served  a  probation  of  six  months,  to 
give  the  inspector-general  an  opportunity  of 
judging  as  to  his  fitness,  &c.:  this  has  only  ref- 
erence to  original  appointments.  All  promo- 
tions in  the  force  are  made  on  the  recommenda- 
tion of  the  inspector-general.98 

These  arrangements  have  had  a  powerful  ef- 
fect in  stimulating  the  force,  generally,  to  an  up- 
right, impartial,  and  zealous  performance  of  their 
duties,  and  have  diffused  an  esprit  through  the 
entire  establishment,  which  did  not  before  exist, 
and  which  has  added  much  to  its  efficiency,  as 
well  as  to  its  respectability. 

The  good  temper,  forbearance  under  great 
provocation,  patience  under  fatigue,  and  strict 
impartiality,  exhibited  by  the  constabulary  at 
riots,  contested  elections,  and  other  occasions, 
have  frequently  been  the  subject  of  just  com- 
mendation. A  stronger  proof  cannot  be  ad- 
duced to  sustain  this  assertion,  than  the  fact,  that 
it  has  very  rarely  occurred,  particularly  of  late 


270  IRELAND 

years,  that  a  life  has  been  lost  in  any  affair  in 
which  the  constabulary  have  been  concerned, 
which  is  saying  much  for  an  armed  body,  or  that 
any  member  of  that  body  has  been  brought  to 
trial,  or  reported,  for  intemperance  in  the  execu- 
tion of  his  duty." 

The  duties  of  the  constabulary  are  multifarious 
and  onerous,  and  are  becoming  every  day  more 
and  more  so.  In  fact,  whatever  is  to  be  done  is 
expected  to  be  performed  by  it.  The  constabu- 
lary is  now  the  great  machine  by  which  almost 
every  measure  is  worked,  and  there  is  no  doubt 
that  it  is  becoming  gradually  of  greater  political 
importance ;  therefore,  the  greater  care  should  be 
taken  not  to  make  its  members  politicians,  or  to 
depend  on  political  influence.  It  should,  as 
much  as  possible,  be  kept  a  distinct  body — that 
is,  distinct  from  all  political  considerations.  Be- 
sides the  ordinary  and  more  legitimate  duties  as 
peace-preservers,  the  constabulary  are  employed 
in  various  ways,  which  creates,  indirectly,  a  vast 
saving  to  the  public:  for  instance,  they  have 
been,  and  continue  to  be,  employed  under  the 
Poor  Law  Act,  in  escorting  convicts  from  all 
parts  of  Ireland  to  Dublin  (a  duty  heretofore 
performed  by  the  military  and  county  jailers  at 
a  very  heavy  expense) ;  in  serving  notices  under 
various  acts  of  parliament;  and  at  this  moment 
they  are  engaged  in  taking  the  census  of  the  pop- 
ulation. They  attend  at  all  large  markets,  fairs, 
"  patrons,"  and  public  meetings  within  their  re- 
spective districts,  to  preserve  order ;  as  well  as  all 
assizes,  quarter  and  petty  sessions,  bankrupt 


CARLOW  271 

courts,  contested  elections,  &c.  They  also  render 
essential  service  on  occasion  of  wrecks,  in  the  re- 
covery of  fines  and  estreated  recognizances  (now 
a  great  source  of  revenue,  but  heretofore  con- 
sumed by  the  sheriff) ,  and  in  the  check  they  keep 
upon  illicit  distillation,  and  the  suppression  of 
unlicensed  houses,  which  could  never  be  effected, 
without  their  aid,  by  the  revenue  officers.  They 
are  patrolling  at  all  hours  of  the  night;  and  the 
knowledge  that  they  are  invariably  on  the  alert 
to  detect  crime  has  been  naturally  efficacious  in 
preventing  it. 

We  have  thus  entered  at  length  into  this  sub- 
ject, because  no  measure  introduced  into  Ireland 
of  late  years  is  so  calculated  to  influence  the  char- 
acter and  condition  of  the  country.  That,  at 
present,  the  system  is  working  well  in  all  respects, 
we  have  the  evidence  arising  from  our  own  very 
minute  inquiries,  made  in  various  quarters,  and 
from  various  classes;  as  well  as  the  testimony  of 
many  persons  better  enabled,  from  longer  resi- 
dence in  Ireland,  to  prove  safe  and  satisfactory 
authorities.  We  have,  in  the  course  of  our  ob- 
servations, referred  to  many  circumstances  that 
lead  to  a  conviction  of  the  great  practical  good 
arising  to  the  public  from  the  employment  of 
this  force — governed  and  disciplined  as  it  is  at 
present;  enabling  government  to  station  else- 
where a  large  body  of  military,  almost  indeed  to 
do  without  a  single  soldier  in  Ireland;  to  intro- 
duce habits  of  order  and  subordination,  as  ex- 
amples and  encouragements  to  the  population; 
to  promote  education  by  manifesting  its  advan- 


272  IRELAND 

tages ;  and,  above  all,  to  exhibit  the  law  as  acting 
for  the  protection  of  every  class  of  the  commu- 
nity. Upon  this  latter  point  we  would  lay 
especial  stress.  A  few  years  ago,  the  feeling 
was  almost  universal  among  "  the  people,"  that 
justice  was  within  the  reach  of  but  a  privileged 
few,  and  that  the  primary,  if  not  the  exclusive, 
duty,  of  all  persons  in  the  service  of  the  law,  was 
to  protect  the  rich  from  the  encroachments  of  the 
poor.  Unhappily,  this  opinion  was  not  entirely 
imaginative;  for  centuries,  the  aristocracy  failed, 
either  from  disinclination  or  want  of  sympathy, 
thoroughly  to  mix  themselves  with  the  people: 
the  former  were  for  the  most  part  of  English  de- 
scent, and  the  latter  the  aboriginal  Irish;  and 
it  was  the  policy  of  England  to  strengthen  rather 
than  to  remove  the  barriers  that  kept  the  two  dis- 
tinct and  apart.  The  one  class  had  entire  confi- 
dence in  the  power  and  will  of  the  law ;  the  other 
class  depended  mainly  on  themselves — on  their 
banding  together  to  resist  aggression,  not  un- 
frequently  to  become  aggressors.  Hence  a  most 
unhappy  state  of  things,  which,  having  endured 
for  ages,  is  only  now  undergoing  a  change.  The 
dregs  of  the  noxious  draught  still  remain.  But 
the  people  generally  have  learned  to  respect  the 
law,  and  to  look  to  it  for  protection  and  not  op- 
pression. The  existing  "  Constabulary,"  created 
by  themselves  and  of  themselves,  has  their  CON- 
FIDENCE; which,  until  within  the  last  few  years, 
was  never  given  to  any  force  employed  by  gov- 
ernment. We  have  not  formed  this  opinion 
without  instituting  the  closest  inquiries.  We 


CARLOW  273 

derive  it  from  consultations  with  persons  of  all 
parties  and  all  stations,  but  more  particularly 
from  the  small  farmers  and  working  men,  the 
least  likely  to  be  biassed  in  its  favour.  We  do 
not,  therefore,  hesitate  to  assert,  that  a  better 
constabulary  never  existed  in  any  country;  and 
that,  for  every  additional  man  appointed  to  it, 
two  soldiers  may  be  safely  removed  from  Ireland. 
It  seems  not  unnatural  that  some  account  of 
the  ancient  distinguishing  characteristic  of  Ire- 
land—"  The  Faction  Fights  "—should  follow 
our  notice  of  the  constabulary  force;  for  we  are 
mainly  indebted  to  that  body  for  their  extinction 
as  a  national  reproach.  Their  history  belongs 
to  OLD  Ireland;  for,  of  late  years,  their  occur- 
rence has  been  very  rare ;  and  since  the  establish- 
ment of  temperance,  they  have  been  made  to 
appear  in  the  eyes  of  the  peasantry  as  revolting 
as  they  were  formerly  exciting.  Previously  to 
the  prevalence  of  sobriety,  however,  they  had 
"  gone  out  of  fashion ;  "  murder  having  for  some 
time  ceased  to  be  a  necessary  epilogue  to  a  fair. 
A  primary  instruction  to  the  constabulary — 
keeping  carefully  in  view  the  principle  of  "  tak- 
ing off  the  match  before  the  shell  explodes  " — 
thus  refers  to  the  subject: — 

"  The  law  defines  that  three  persons  in  a  state  of  quarrel 
constitute  a  '  riot/  and  they  or  any  of  them  may  be  in- 
dicted accordingly,  upon  the  evidence  of  one  or  more  cred- 
ible witness  or  witnesses,  although  the  rioters  themselves 
may  not  lodge  informations  against  or  prosecute  each  other : 
and  therefore  it  becomes  a  paramount  duty  of  the  force 
not  only  to  suppress  all  riots,  but  also  to  identify  and  lodge 
informations  against  rioters,  in  order  to  vindicate  the  law, 
V— 18 


274  IRELAND 

and  to  neutralize  any  arrangement  or  compromise  which 
might  be  entered  into  by  such  rioters. 

"  Officers  in  charge  of  districts  are  to  keep  exact  memo- 
randa of  the  dates  of  all  fairs,  markets,  races,  and  other 
periodical  meetings  in  their  several  districts,  and  are  to 
attend  at  such  meetings  with  a  sufficient  force  for  the 
preservation  of  the  peace;  and  in  the  event  of  any  breach 
of  it  occurring,  it  will  depend  upon  the  officer's  discretion 
and  firmness,  the  strength  of  his  party,  and  the  several 
circumstances  of  the  case,  whether  the  rioters  are  to  be 
arrested,  or  merely  identified  so  that  they  may  be  after- 
wards brought  to  justice." 

It  was  the  clause  we  have  marked  in  italics 
that  settled  the  matter;  for  although,  in  the  heat 
of  a  fight,  the  factions  would  have  despised  the 
police,  and  both,  probably  (as  they  often  did), 
have  postponed  their  own  affair  to  beat  the  com- 
mon enemy,  this  "  identifying  "  for  after  punish- 
ment was  a  plan  they  could  not  contrive  to  over- 
reach. The  constabulary  were  everywhere;  it 
was  almost  impossible  for  a  contest  to  take  place 
without  their  knowledge;  and  they  were  invari- 
ably upon  the  spot  to  "  identify."  The  natural 
consequence  was,  that  the  system  gradually 
vanished;  and  temperance  effectually — and  for 
ever — destroyed  it. 

It  is  unquestionable  that  it  originated  in  a 
want  of  popular  confidence  in  the  administration 
of  the  law;  and  it  is  equally  certain  that  the  en- 
deavours of  the  police  to  put  an  end  to  it — 
although  at  first  facilitated  by  the  dread  of  pun- 
ishment— were  greatly  assisted  by  a  growing 
consciousness  that  the  law  was  now  administered, 
not  for  public  oppression,  but  for  public  pro- 


CARLOW  275 

tection.  When  the  peasant  became  satisfied  that 
his  wrongs  were  assured  of  redress,  and  that  satis- 
faction for  either  insult  or  injury  was  to  be  had  at 
all  times,  it  was  comparatively  easy  to  induce  him 
to  abstain  from  "  taking  the  law  into  his  own 
hands,"  and  fighting  out  a  quarrel. 

Quarrels  descended  from  father  to  son.  There 
was  scarcely  a  district  in  Ireland  that  did  not 
recognise  some  hereditary  dispute ;  and  it  became 
a  sort  of  duty  for  a  member  of  one  family  to 
insult  the  member  of  another  family,  whenever 
they  chanced  to  meet.  Every  relation  of  each, 
no  matter  how  distant,  was  expected  to  "  stand 
by  his  faction;"  and  times  and  places  were 
regularly  appointed  where  they  might  meet  to 
"  fight  it  out;  "  the  majority  of  the  combatants, 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  being  utterly  ignorant 
what  they  were  fighting  for,  and  the  leaders  be- 
ing very  seldom  acquainted  with  the  original 
cause  of  the  quarrel. 

The  magistrates  were,  generally,  totally  un- 
able to  interrupt  a  fight  when  it  had  begun,  and 
usually  failed  to  prevent  it  after  the  arrange- 
ments for  it  had  been  made;  and  we  have  more 
than  once  seen  a  parish  priest — respected  and 
beloved  by  his  flock — labouring  as  vainly  to 
establish  peace  among  them  as  if  he  talked  to  so 
many  stocks  or  stones. 

Many  years  have  passed  since  we  witnessed 
one  of  those  disgusting  scenes.  Unhappily,  with 
their  brutality  and  cruelty  was  frequently  mixed 
up  so  much  fun  and  humour  and  physical  cour- 
age, that  their  revolting  character  was  not  im- 


276  IRELAND 

mediately  perceptible,  although  generosity  was 
a  rare  ingredient  in  a  fight,  and  women  too  fre- 
quently mingled  in  it.  We  must  observe,  how- 
ever, that,  in  the  most  ferocious  encounter,  a 
woman  was  seldom  struck — we  might  almost  go 
the  length  of  saying,  never — except  by  accident. 
We  recollect  seeing  one  of  "  the  gentler  sex  " 
striking  right  and  left  with  a  terrific  weapon— 
a  huge  stone  in  a  stocking-foot — and  noting  sev- 
eral men  knocked  down  by  her  blows  without 
either  of  them  aiming  at  her  a  single  one  in  re- 
turn. It  used  to  amaze  us  that  more  lives  were 
not  lost  in  such  contests;  but  a  man  was  fre- 
quently saved  in  consequence  of  the  number  of 
his  adversaries,  all  beating  at  him  with  their 
sticks,  which  generally  interfered  so  much  with 
each  other  that  few  of  the  blows  reached  him. 
We  call  to  mind  one  fair  in  particular;  it  took 
place  in  the  vicinity  of  Ballydehob,  about  thirty 
miles  west  of  the  county  of  Cork,  and  at  a  time 
when  there  was  little  dread  of  interruption. 
We  shall  endeavour  to  describe  it — briefly,  how- 
ever, for  the  subject  is  not  pleasant,  and  now  can- 
not be  useful.  Towards  the  afternoon  of  a  fine 
spring  day,  the  rival  factions  began  to  assemble 
— each  armed  with  his  stout  shillalah.100  The 
leaders  parleyed  somewhat  before  they  began — 
not  a  very  frequent  course ;  they  were  surrounded 
by  women  and  children;  and  an  old  hag  seemed 
determined  there  should  be  no  chance  of  peace, 
for  she  rated  one  of  them  with  the  term  "  cow- 
ard." Actual  hostilities  were,  however,  com- 
menced by  a  huge  fellow  running  through  the 


CARLOW  277 

crowd,  and  stopping  before  each  man  of  the  op- 
posite party,  whom  he  greeted  with  the  foul 
phrase  "  liar :  "  his  purpose  was  soon  answered ; 
one,  less  patient  than  the  rest,  struck  him  a  blow ; 
their  sticks  were  crossed,  and  in  a  moment  hun- 
dreds had  joined  the  melee.  They  fought  for 
above  an  hour — and,  at  length,  one  party  was 
beaten  off  the  field.  But,  in  truth,  we  can  do 
little  good  by  entering  into  minute  explanations 
of  a  scene  so  revolting;  and  we  shall  prefer  leav- 
ing them  to  the  reader's  fancy;  communicating 
the  attendant  consequences  in  the  less  disagree- 
able form  of  a  story ;  telling  it,  however,  as  nearly 
as  we  can  call  them  to  mind,  in  the  very  words 
in  which  we  heard  it;  and  so  carrying  out  our 
plan  of  varying  dry  details  by  the  introduction 
of  matter  more  attractive. 

"  The  faction  fights,  plase  your  honours," 
said  an  intelligent  countryman  when  spoken  to 
by  us  on  the  subject,  "  the  faction  fights  are 
a'most,  and  maybe  more  than  a'most,  gone  off 
the  face  of  the  country.  The  boys  are  beginning 
to  talk  about  them  as  things  they  have  seen — like 
a  show  or  a  giant.  We  ask  each  other  how  we 
were  ever  drawn  into  them,  what  brought  them 
about;  and  the  one  answer  to  that  is — Whiskey! 
No  gun  will  go  off  until  it  is  primed,  and  sure 
whiskey  was  the  priming.  That  made  more 
orphans  and  widows  than  the  fever  or  starva- 
tion. Thanks  be  to  God,  if  death  come  upon 
us  now,  it  is  by  the  Lord's  will,  and  not  our  own 
act." 

It  was  encouraging  to  hear  such  a  remark  from 


278  IRELAND 

one  of  "  the  people ;  "  and  this  was  by  no  means 
a  solitary  instance. 

The  man,  had  he  confessed,  many  a  time  when  a 
mere  child,  incited  by  the  example  of  the  faction 
to  whom  his  parents  belonged,  nerved  his  little 
arms  to  cast  heavy  stones  into  the  melee,  not 
caring  how  or  where  they  fell.  '  We  usen't  to 
mind  a  bit  of  a  shindy  in  those  times:  if  a  boy  was 
killed,  why  we  said  it  was  '  his  luck,'  and  that  it 
couldn't  be  helped;  if  a  fellow  trailed  his  coat 
over  the  fair  green  and  dared  any  one  to  stand 
a  foot  on  it,  we  enjoyed  the  fight  that  was  sure 
to  follow,  and  never  thought  or  cared  how  it 
would  end.  Sure  I  remember  my  own  brother 
— and  now  since  he's  been  a  Temperance  man, 
he  hasn't  raised  a  finger  in  anger  to  any  living 
creature — sure  I  mind  him  well,  feeling  the  tents 
for  heads,  and  when  he'd  get  one  to  his  liking, 
giving  it  first  a  good  rap,  and  then  calling  on 
the  owner  to  come  out  and  fight  him;  sure  he'd 
never  have  done  that  but  for  the  whiskey.  Ah," 
he  continued,  "  that  was  a  foolish  dmarshin,  but 
there  was  no  heart  bitterness  with  it;  nothing  to 
lay  heavy  to  the  end  of  one's  days.  But  the 
faction  fights  war  the  bitterest  of  all — black 
hatred  descending  from  father  to  son  against  the 
opposite  faction,  as  if  poor  Ireland  hadn't 
enough  enemies  without  turning — worse  than  a 
wild  beast — to  murder  and  destroy  her  own  flesh 
and  blood.  Now  there's  a  poor  woman,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  a  pale  patient-looking  person  who 
sat  knitting  at  her  cottage  door;  "  there's  a  poor 
creature!  Mrs.  Lawler  knows  what  factions 


CARLOW  279 

come  to,  and  so  she  ought ;  she'll  tell  the  lady  her 
story  and  welcome,  if  she  has  any  curiosity  to 
hear  it.  Good  morrow-morning  to  you,  Mrs. 
Lawler,  and  how's  your  girleen,  ma'am?  the  lady 
would  be  glad  to  rest  while  the  gentleman  and  I 
get  up  the  far  hill;  and  you  have  always  a  wel- 
come, like  your  people  before  you,  for  the 
stranger." 

"  Kindly  welcome,"  said  the  widow.  "  Mary, 
dust  the  chair,  avourneen." 

The  cabin  was  clean  and  neat,  and  bearing 
no  evidence  of  the  presence  of  that  sad  poverty 
we  had  so  frequently  seen,  though  it  did  not  dim 
the  smile  or  lessen  the  welcome — nor  was  it  dif- 
ficult to  lead  the  widow  to  the  story  of  sorrows, 
which,  however  softened  by  time,  were  ever  up- 
permost in  her  mind. 

"  My  mother  and  myself  were  widowed  by 
factions — plase  God,  my  little  girl  won't  have 
the  same  tale  to  tell,  for  the  Connels  and  the 
Lawlers  might  put  salt  to  each  other's  potatoes 
without  fear  of  fighting  now.  It  was  a  shock- 
ing thing  to  see  the  arm  of  brother  raised  against 
brother,  only  because  as  battle  and  murder  war 
in  the  hearts  of  their  forefathers  they  must  be 
continued  in  their  own. 

"  I  was  born  a  Connel,  and  almost  the  first 
thing  I  learned  was  to  hate  a  Lawler,  from  the 
lip  out ;  and  yet  hard  fortune  was  before  me,  for 
the  very  first  passion  my  heart  felt  was  the  same 
love  it  feels  still,  for  a  Lawler;  it  has  known  no 
change,  though  it  has  known  sorrow;  the  first 
knowledge  I  had  of  the  wild  beatings  of  my 


280  IRELAND 

own  heart  was  when  I  saw  that  girl's  father. 
Ah  yah!  it  has  beat  with  joy  and  terror  often; 
but  the  love  for  my  first  love,  and  my  last,  was 
always  one ;  and  now,  when  all  is  past  and  gone, 
and  that  you,  Mark  Lawler,  are  in  your  green 
quiet  grave,  I  am  prouder  to  have  been  the  choice 
of  your  own  fine  noble  spirit,  than  if  I  was 
made  this  moment  the  queen  of  all  Ireland's 
ground.  O  lady!  if  you  could  have  seen  him! 
'  Norah,'  said  my  father  to  me,  and  I  winnowing 
at  our  barn-door  with  the  servant-maid — '  Norah, 
keep  your  eyes  on  the  grain,  and  not  after  the 
chaff,  and  don't  raise  them  above  the  hedge,  for 
there's  many  a  Lawler  will  be  passing  the  road 
this  day  on  account  of  the  fair,  and  I  don't  wish 
a  child  of  mine  to  notice  them,  or  to  be  noticed 
by  them.'  I  intended  to  do  his  bidding,  and 
whenever  I  heard  a  horse  or  the  voices  of 
strangers  coming  down  the  boreen,  I  kept  my 
eyes  on  the  grain,  and  let  the  chaff  fly  at  its 
pleasure,  until  a  dog  broke  through  the  hedge, 
and  attacked  a  little  beast  of  my  own ;  so  as  soon 
as  that  came  to  pass,  I  let  the  sieve  fall,  to  catch 
my  own  little  dog  in  my  arms ;  there  was  no  need 
for  that,  for  he  was  over  the  hedge,  lighter  and 
brighter  than  a  sunbeam.  Ah,  then,  I  wonder 
is  love  as  quick  at  taking  in  all  countries  as  it  is 
here?  Mark  Lawler  didn't  speak  ten  words, 
nor  I  two;  and  yet  from  that  out — under  the 
bames  of  the  moon,  or  the  sun,  in  the  open  field, 
or  in  the  crowd,  it  was  all  one — no  one  but  Mark 
Lawler  was  in  my  mind.  I  knew  he  was  a 
Lawler  by  his  eyes,  and  well  he  knew  I  was  a 


CARLOW  281 

Connel;  but  the  love  would  have  little  of  boy 
and  girl  love  in  it  that  would  heed  a  faction. 
We,  who  had  never  met  till  that  moment,  could 
never  go  astray  in  the  fields  without  meeting  after. 
Ah!  Mary,"  she  continued,  addressing  her 
daughter,  and  yet,  in  her  simplicity,  quite  for- 
getting she  had  been  proving  the  uselessness  of 
precept  by  her  own  confession;  "  ah,  Mary  dear, 
if  ye  feel  yer  heart  soften  towards  a  young  man, 
keep  out  of  his  way  intirely,  avourneen;  have 
nothing  to  say  to  him,  don't  drive  your  cow  the 
same  road  he  walks,  nor  draw  water  from  the 
same  well,  nor  go  to  the  same  chapel,  Mary, 
barrin  you  have  no  other  to  go  to :  there's  a  deal 
of  mischief  in  the  chapel,  dear,  because  you  think 
in  your  innocence  you're  giving  your  thoughts  to 
God,  and  all  the  time,  maybe,  it's  to  an  idol  of 
your  own  making,  my  darling  child,  they'd  be 
going;  sure  your  mother's  sorrow  ought  to  be  a 
warning,  avourneen! " 

"  Yes,  mother,"  replied  the  blue-eyed  girl, 
meekly. 

"  Well,  lady,  my  poor  father  thought  I  grew 
very  attentive  intirely  to  the  young  lambs,  and 
watchful  over  the  flax;  but  at  last  some  of  the 
Connels  whispered  how  it  was,  that  Mark  Lawler 
met  his  child  unknownst;  and  he  questioned  me, 
and  I  told  the  truth,  how  I  had  given  my  heart 
out  of  my  bosom;  and  I  fell  at  his  feet,  and 
cried  salt  and  bitter  tears  until  they  dropped 
upon  the  ground  he  stood  on;  and  seeing  his 
heart  was  turning  to  iron,  I,  who  had  ever  been 
like  a  willow  in  his  hand,  roused  myself,  and 


282  IRELAND 

challenged  him  to  say  a  word  to  Mark's  dis- 
advantage. I  said  he  was  sober,  honest,  in- 
dustrious; and  my  father  was  struck  with  the 
strength  of  the  heart  I  took,  and  listened,  until 
at  last  he  made  answer,  that  if  a  saint  from 
heaven  came  down,  and  was  a  Lawler,  he  would 
not  give  him  a  drop  of  water  to  wet  his  lips. 
He  threatened  me  with  his  curse  if  I  kept  true 
in  my  love,  and  thought  to  settle  the  thing  out  of 
hand  by  marrying  me  to  my  own  second  cousin; 
but  that  I  wouldn't  hear  to.  God  knows  I  did 
not  mean  to  cross  him,  but  what  could  I  do? 
Mark  sent  to  ask  me  to  bid  him  farewell,  or  his 
heart  would  break;  I  thought  there  could  be  no 
harm  in  blessing  him,  and  telling  him  to  think  of 
me  no  more.  Mary,  avourneen,"  she  said,  again 
addressing  her  daughter,  "  if  ye  really  want  to 
break  off  at  once  with  a  young  man,  take  warn- 
ing by  me." 

"  Yes,  mother,"  was  again  Mary's  gentle 
reply. 

"  At  that  meeting  we  agreed  to  meet  again ; 
and  so  we  did,  until  we  got  a  priest  to  make  us 
one.  At  first  I  was  happy  as  a  young  bird ;  but 
soon  my  heart  felt  crushed,  for  I  had  to  carry 
two  faces.  My  father  was  more  bitter  than  ever 
against  the  Lawlers ;  and  my  brother,  *  Dark 
Connel,'  as  he  was  called,  more  cruel  than  my 
father.  At  last  I  was  forced  to  own  that  I  was 
married.  I  watched  the  time  when  my  brother 
was  away;  for  one  storm  was  as  much  as  I  could 
bear.  My  father  cast  me  like  a  dog  from  the 
hearth  I  had  played  on  when  a  child ;  in  his  fury 


CARLOW  283 

he  knelt  to  curse  me,  but  my  mother  held  a  gospel 
against  his  lips;  so  I  was  saved  his  curse.  The 
arms  of  a  loving  husband  were  open  for  me ;  and 
until  the  midsummer  fair  I  thought  my  happi- 
ness was  sure.  I  worked  hard  to  keep  Mark 
from  it,  for  the  factions  were  sure  to  meet  there ; 
he  swore  to  me  that  he  would  not  raise  a  finger 
against  my  father  or  brother,  nor  let  a  drop  of 
spirits  pass  his  lips.  I  walked  with  him  a  piece 
of  the  way,  and  I  thought  all  pleasure  in  sight 
left  my  eyes  when  he  waved  the  last  wave  of  his 
hat  on  the  top  of  the  hill.  As  I  was  turning  into 
our  own  field,  a  lark  was  rising  above  its  nest, 
singing  its  glory  to  the  heavens  in  its  sweet  voice, 
when  a  shot  from  the  gun  of  one  of  those 
squireens,  who  are  thick  among  the  leaves  as 
spiders'  webs,  struck  the  bird,  and  it  fell  quiver- 
ing and  bleeding  close  to  where  I  knew  its  nest 
was  in  the  corn.  I  opened  the  bending  grain 
to  see  if  I  could  find  it;  it  was  lying  quite  dead, 
and  its  poor  mate  standing  close  by.  The  lark 
is  a  timid  thing,  but  she  never  minded  me,  and 
my  heart  felt  so  sick,  that  I  went  into  my  house 
crying  bitterly. 

"  I  could  not  rest;  I  thought  in  a  few  hours  I 
might  be  like  that  innocent  bird;  and  taking  my 
cloak  about  me,  I  walked  on  and  on,  until  I 
came  in  sight  of  the  fair  green.  It  was  a  woeful 
sight  to  me — the  shouts  of  the  showmen,  the 
screams  of  the  sellers,  the  lowing  of  cattle  and 
bleating  of  sheep,  were  all  mixed  together — 
while  the  yell  of  the  factions,  every  now  and 
again,  drowned  everything  in  its  horrid  sound. 


284  IRELAND 

I  knew  my  father's  voice  as  he  shouted  '  Hurroo 
for  the  Connels — down  with  the  Lawlers.'  I 
saw  him  standing  before  Mark,  aggravating  him. 
My  husband's  hands  were  clenched,  and  he  kept 
his  arms  close  by  his  side  that  he  might  not  strike. 
I  prayed  that  God  might  keep  him  in  that  mind, 
and  flew  towards  them.  Just  as  I  dropped  on 
my  knees  by  his  side,  he  had  raised  his  arm — 
not  against  my  father,  but  against  my  brother, 
who  had  drawn  the  old  man  back ;  and  there  they 
stood  face  to  face — the  two  young  heads  of  the 
old  factions — blows  were  exchanged,  for  Mark 
had  been  aggravated  beyond  all  bearing;  and  I 
was  trying  to  force  myself  between  them,  when 
I  saw  my  father  stretched  upon  the  green,  in 
the  very  hour  and  act  of  revenge  and  sin.  It 
was  by  a  blow  from  a  Lawler — the  old  man 
never  spoke  another  word — and  the  suddenness 
of  his  death  (for  he  was  liked  by  the  one 
and  hated  by  the  other)  struck  a  terror  in  them 
all — the  sticks  fell  to  their  sides — and  the  great 
storm  of  oaths  and  voices  sunk  into  a  murmur 
while  they  looked  on  the  dying  man. 

"  Oh !  bitter,  heart  bitter,  was  my  sorrow.  I 
shrouded  my  father  with  my  arms,  but  he  didn't 
feel  me;  the  feeling  had  left  his  limbs,  and  the 
light  his  eyes ;  however  hard  his  words  had  been, 
the  knowledge  that  I  was  fatherless,  and  my 
mother  a  widow,  made  me  forget  them  all! 
While  some  of  the  neighbours  ran  for  a  priest, 
and  others  raised  the  cry,  my  brother — darker 
than  ever  I  had  seen  him — fell  upon  his  knees, 
and  dipping  his  hand  in  the  warm  blood  that 


CARLOW  285 

poured  from  the  old  man's  wounds,  held  it  up 
in  the  sight  of  the  Connels.  '  Boys,'  he  shouted, 
and  his  voice  was  like  the  howl  of  a  wild  beast — 
*  Boys !  by  this  blood  I  swear,  never  to  make 
peace  till  the  hour  of  my  death  with  one  of  the 
name  who  have  done  this,  but  to  hackle,  and  rive, 
and  destroy  all  belonging  to  the  Lawlers.' 

"  And  the  women  who  war  about  me  cried  out 
at  my  brother,  and  said,  '  Sure  his  sister  was  a 
Connel: '  but  he  looked  at  me  worse  than  if  I 
was  a  sarpent,  and  resting  his  hand — wet  as  it 
was — upon  my  head,  turned  away,  saying,  '  She 
is  marked  with  her  father's  blood  in  the  sight  of 
the  people' 

"  I  thought  I  should  have  died ;  and  when  I 
came  to  myself  I  found  I  was  in  a  poor  woman's 
cabin,  as  good  as  half-way  home,  with  two  or 
three  of  the  neighbours  about  me;  and  my  hus- 
band, the  very  moral  of  a  broken  heart,  by  my 
side.  *  Avourneen  gra ! '  he  said,  striving  to 
keep  down  the  workings  of  his  heart — *  Avour- 
neen gra !  I  had  no  hand  in  it  at  all.  God  knows 
I  wouldn't  have  hurt  a  hair  of  his  white  head.' 
I  knew  it  was  the  truth  he  was  telling,  yet  some- 
how the  words  of  my  brother  clung  about  me — 
I  was  marked  with  my  father's  blood. 

"  And  the  Connels  put  the  old  man's  corpse 
upon  a  cart,  and  laid  a  clean  white  cloth  over 
it;  and  carried  him  past  my  own  little  place — 
keening  over  it,  and  cursing  the  hand  that  gave 
him  his  death.  Hundreds  of  the  neighbours 
mixed  with  my  own  people,  my  widowed  mother 
and  my  dark  brother  following;  and  so  they 


286  IRELAND 

passed  by  our  door;  for  miles  along  the  road  I 
could  hear  the  loud  scream  of  the  mother  that 
bore  me  high  above  the  voices  of  all  the  rest. 
Oh!  it  was  a  horrid  sound  and  a  horrid  sight! 

"  His  death  was  talked  of  far  and  near;  the 
magistrates  set  to  putting  down  the  factions,  and 
the  priest  gave  out  from  the  altar,  Sunday  after 
Sunday,  such  commands,  that,  without  flying  in 
his  reverence's  face,  they  could  not  keep  on  at 
the  fights  in  public:  every  innocent  diversion 
through  the  country  was  stopped  on  their  ac- 
count; but  though  there  was  outward  peace,  yet 
day  after  day  I  was  followed  by  the  spirit  of  my 
brother's  words;  the  world  wouldn't  put  it  out 
of  his  head,  that  Mark  struck  the  mortal  blow, 
and  he  turned  his  ear  from  me,  and  from  his 
own  mother,  and  would  not  believe  the  truth. 

"  For  as  good  as  two  years,  the  husband, 
whose  life  was  the  life-beat  of  my  worn-out  heart, 
seldom  left  the  cabin  without  my  thinking  he 
would  never  come  back.  I'd  wait  till  he  was  a 
few  yards  from  the  door,  and  then  steal  out  to 
watch  him  till  he  was  out  of  sight.  At  ploughing, 
or  haymaking,  or  reaping,  his  whistle  would  come 
over  the  little  hill  to  me,  while  I  sat  at  my  wheel, 
as  clear  as  a  blackbird's ;  and  if  it  stopped  but  for 
a  minute,  my  heart  would  sink  like  death,  and 
it's  to  the  door  I'd  be.  If  I  woke  in  the  night,  I 
could  not  go  to  sleep  again  without  my  arm 
across  his  shoulder  to  feel  that  he  was  safe;  and 
my  first  and  last  prayer  to  the  Almighty,  night 
and  morning,  was  for  him. 

"  My  brother  was  very  fond  of  children,  and 


CARLOW  287 

though  he  had  gone  to  live  at  the  other  side  of 
the  parish,  I  managed  to  meet  him  one  evening, 
and  place  little  Mary  before  him;  but  his  face 
darkened  so  over  the  child,  that  I  was  afraid 
she  might  be  struck  with  an  evil  eye,  and,  making 
the  sign  of  the  cross  on  her,  I  covered  her  from 
his  sight  with  my  cloak :  after  that,  I  knew  noth- 
ing would  turn  his  hatred,  except  the  grace  of 
God ;  and  though  I  wished  that  he  might  have  it, 
whenever  I  tried  to  pray  for  it  for  him,  my  blood 
turned  cold.  I've  often  thought,"  she  continued, 
after  a  pause,  "  what  a  blessing  it  is,  that  we  have 
no  knowledge  of  the  sorrow  we're  born  to;  for 
if  we  had,  we  could  not  bear  life.  I  had  that 
knowledge;  Mark  never  smiled  on  me  that  I  did 
not  feel  my  flesh  creep,  lest  it  should  be  his  last. 
He'd  tell  sometimes  of  how  things  were  mend- 
ing, how  there  was  much  bitterness  going  out  of 
the  country;  and  though  there  was  no  talk  of 
temperance  then,  he  saw  plain  enough,  that  if 
men  would  keep  from  whiskey  they'd  forget  to 
be  angry.  And  every  minute,  even  while  I 
trembled  for  the  life  of  his  body,  the  peace  and 
love  that  was  in  him  made  me  easy  as  to  the  life 
of  his  soul.  At  last  I  persuaded  him  to  leave 
the  country ;  a  new  hope  came  to  me,  strong  and 
bright,  and  I  thought  we  might  get  away  to 
America,  and  that,  maybe,  then  he'd  have  a 
chance  of  living  all  the  days  that  were  allotted 
at  his  birth.  I  did  not  tell  him  that,  but  having 
got  his  consent,  I  worked  night  and  day  to  get 
off :  it  was  all  settled ;  the  day  fixed ;  and  none  of 
the  neighbours,  barring  one  or  two  of  the  Lawlers, 


288  IRELAND 

knew  it,  and  I  knew  my  brother  would  not  hear 
it  from  them;  and  then  my  mother  lived  with 
him.  The  evening  before  the  day  was  come, 
that  time  to-morrow  we  were  to  be  on  shipboard. 
'  I'll  go,'  says  my  husband,  '  I'll  go  to  the  priest 
this  evening,  who  christened,  confirmed,  and 
married  me,  and  who  knows  all  that  was  in  me 
from  the  time  I  was  born;  his  blessing  will  be  a 
guard  over  us,  and  we'll  go  together  to  his  knee.' 
'  We  went ;  and  though  the  parting  was  sad, 
it  was  sweet:  we  walked  homewards — both  our 
hearts  full.  At  last  Mark  said,  that  only  for 
me  he'd  never  have  thought  of  leaving  the  old  sod ; 
but,  maybe,  it  would  be  for  the  best.  I  opened 
my  mind  to  him  then  intirely,  and  owned  more 
than  ever  I  had  done  before;  how  the  dread  of 
the  factions  had  disturbed  me  day  and  night; 
though  I  did  not  tell  him  how  my  father's  blood 
had  been  laid  on  me  by  my  own  brother.  He 
laughed  at  me — his  gay  wild  laugh — and  said  he 
hoped  my  trouble  was  gone  like  the  winter's 
snow.  Now,  this  is  a  simple  thing,  and  yet  it 
always  struck  me  as  mighty  strange  intirely;  we 
were  walking  through  a  field,  and,  God  help  me, 
it  was  a  weak  woman's  fancy,  but  I  never  thought 
any  harm  could  come  to  him  when  I  was  with 
him,  and  all  of  a  sudden — started,  maybe,  at  his 
laugh — a  lark  sprung  up  at  our  feet;  we  both 
watched  it,  stopped  to  watch  it,  about  three  yards 
from  the  ditch,  and  while  it  was  yet  clear  in 
sight,  a  whiz — a  flash  as  of  lightning — the  sound 
of  death — and  my  husband  was  a  corpse  at  my 
feet." 


CARLOW  289 

The  poor  woman  flung  her  apron  over  her  face 
to  conceal  her  agitation,  while  she  sobbed  bitterly. 
"  The  spirit  of  the  factions,"  she  continued,  "  was 
in  that  fatal  shot.  Oh  that  he,  my  blessing  and 
my  pride,  should  have  been  struck  in  the  hour 
of  hope!  Oh,  Mark!  Mark!  long  ago  you,  that 
I  loved  so  well,  were  turned  into  clay — many  a 
long  day  ago;  and  still  I  think,  when  I  sit  on 
your  green  grass  grave,  I  can  hear  your  voice 
telling  me  of  your  happiness;  the  heart  of  the 
youngest  maid  was  not  more  free  from  spot  than 
yours,  my  own  darling!  And  to  think  that  one 
of  my  own  blood  should  have  taken  you  from 
my  side.  Oh,  then  it  was  I  who  felt  the  curse  of 
blood!" 

"  And  was  it — was  it?  "  we  would  have  asked, 
"was  it  your  brother?" 

"Whisht!"  she  whispered,  "Whisht,  avour- 
neen,  whisht!  he's  in  his  grave  too — though  I 
didn't  inform — I  left  him  to  God.  When  I 
came  to  myself,  the  place  around — the  very  sky 
where  the  lark  and  his  soul  had  mounted  together 
— looked  dismal,  but  not  so  dark  as  the  dark- 
faced  man  who  did  it:  he  had  no  power  to  leave 
the  spot;  he  was  fixed  there;  something  he  said 
about  his  father  and  revenge.  God  help  me! 
sure  we  war  nursed  at  the  same  breast.  No  one 
knew  it  but  me;  so  I  left  him  to  God — I  left  him 
to  God!  And  he  withered,  lady!  he  withered 
off  the  face  of  the  earth — withered,  my  mother 
told  me,  away,  away — he  was  eat  to  death  by  his 
conscience!  Oh,  who  would  think  a  faction 
could  end  in  such  crime  as  that ! 

V— 19 


290  IRELAND 

"Ah!  people  who  live  among  the  flowers  of 
the  earth  know  little  of  the  happiness  I  have  in 
taking  my  child,  and  sitting  beside  her  on  her 
father's  grave;  and  as  month  afther  month  goes 
by,  I  cant  but  feel  I'm  all  the  sooner  to  be  with 
him!  "  When  she  said  this,  it  was  impossible  not 
to  feel  for  her  daughter;  the  poor  girl  cast  such 
a  piteous  look  upon  her  mother,  and  at  last,  un- 
able to  control  herself,  flung  her  arms  tightly 
round  her  neck,  as  though  she  would  keep  her 
there  for  ever. 

Again  and  again  did  her  mother  return  her 
caresses — murmuring,  "  My  colleen-das  will 
never  be  widowed  by  faction  now;  the  spirit  is 
all  gone,  praise  be  to  the  Lord :  and  so  I  tell  him 
when  I  sit  upon  his  grave." 


NOTES 

i  Some  idea  of  the  extent  of  "  stock "  exported  from  Ireland 
may  be  gathered  from  the  following  return  supplied  to  us  at  the 
single  port  of  Cork.  From  the  1st  June,  1839,  to  the  31st  May, 
1840,  there  were  conveyed  by  the  St.  George  Steam  Company — 

Cows,   5,468  valued  at  £  54,700 

Horses,    900                      18,000 

Pigs, 35,875                      71,750 

Sheep,    15,210                       15,500 

Fowl,    200  (crates)      1,000 

Eggs,    7,883  (hampers) 24,000 

Butter,    121,859  (firkins)     243,718 


Total,    £428,668 

2  In  Wexford,  charity  had  been  so  liberally  administered  by  sev- 
eral of  the  resident  gentry,  and  under  such  judicious  arrange- 
ments, that  during  our  recent  visit  we  were  met  by  the  most 
practised  beggars  with  only  prayers  and  blessings,  when  driving 
into  the  town  with  a  dear  friend  who  had  been  foremost  to  aid, 
and  who  had  actually  stocked  the  market  with  food  so  as  to  com- 
pel a  reduction  of  prices  to  the  poor.  "  I'm  not  come,"  said  one 
woman,  who  was  accompanied  by  a  troop  of  children — "  I'm  not 
come  to  ax  yer  honour's  glory  for  anything;  but  only  that  the  five 
childer  ye  saved  from  starving  may  look  in  yer  sweet  face." 

s  "  Going  a  round  " — travelling  from  one  sacred  place  to  another, 
and  saying  a  stated  number  of  prayers  at  each.  It  is  frequently 
undertaken  "  for  the  repose  of  a  soul."  At  Kilcrea,  we  met  a 
woman  so  aged  as  to  be  scarce  able  to  walk,  who  had  journeyed' 
from  the  extreme  end  of  Kerry  in  order  to  perform  for  her  dead 
daughter  a  duty  which  the  daughter  had  promised  to  do. 

4  In  the  report  made  in  1832,  by  the  commissioners  appointed  to 
inquire  into  the  parliamentary  representation  of  Ireland,  it  is  stated 
that — "  The  county  of  the  city  of  Cork  consists  of  the  city,  suburbs, 
and  liberties,  the  whole  containing  45,000  statute  acres,  which  en- 

291 


292  IRELAND 

tire  district  forms  the  borough,  is  subject  to  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  city  magistrates,  and  contributes  to  the  city  taxes;  and  is  in 
these  respects,  as  well  as  in  point  of  elective  franchise,  wholly  dis- 
tinct from  the  county  at  large. 

"  The  site  of  the  ancient  city  is  an  island,  dividing  the  river  Lee 
into  two  channels,  which,  after  passing  round,  unite  their  waters 
below  it.  A  portion  of  this  island  was  formerly  considered  the 
city,  and  the  neighbouring  land,  for  a  mile  in  every  direction,  con- 
stituted the  suburbs  under  one  of  the  charters,  (Edward  IV.)  The 
tract  of  land  now  called  the  liberties  was  added  by  a  subsequent 
charter  (James  I.),  under  which  the  whole  became  the  county  of 
the  city  of  Cork. 

"  The  island  is  connected  with  the  main  land  on  each  side  by 
numerous  bridges,  beyond  which  the  suburbs  have  in  course  of  time 
grown  to  a  great  extent,  and  form,  in  point  of  fact,  a  most  im- 
portant portion  of  the  city. 

"The  limits  of  these  suburbs  were  decided  in  1813  for  the  pur- 
poses of  local  taxation;  and  a  boundary  separating  them  from  the 
liberties  was  then  laid  down  by  the  act  of  53  George  III.  c.  3. 
Since  that  time,  however,  the  suburbs  have  spread  considerably. 

"  The  government  of  the  city  is  vested  in  a  mayor,  two  sheriffs, 
a  recorder,  an  unlimited  number  of  aldermen,  and  a  sufficient  num- 
ber selected  from  the  burgesses  to  make  up  twenty-four,  forming 
the  common  council. 

"  The  number  of  dwelling-houses  within  the  city  and  suburbs  is 
7,928,  besides  1,684  warehouses,  stores,  and  buildings;  making  a 
total  of  houses  of  all  descriptions  of  9,612.  Of  these  8,584  are 
slated,  1,028  are  thatched,  and  5,602  have  seven  windows  and  up- 
wards." 

s  See  Mrs.  Broughton's  Algiers,  1839. 

6  "  Deoch  an  durrass,"  means  literally,  drink  at  the  door. 

7  The   society   did   not,   however,    inculcate   "  total    abstinence." 
The  following  is  the  resolution  on  which  it  was  founded :    "  We, 
the  undersigned  members  of  the  New  Ross  Temperance  Society, 
being  persuaded  that  the  use  of  intoxicating  liquors  is,  for  per- 
sons in  health,  not  only  unnecessary  but  hurtful,  and  that  the 
practice  forms  intemperate  appetites  and  habits;  and  that  while 
it  is  continued,  the  evils  of  intemperance  can  never  be  prevented — 
do  agree  to  abstain  from  the  use  of  distilled  spirits,  except  as  a 
medicine  in  case  of  bodily  ailment;  that  we  will  not  allow  the 
use  of  them  in  our  families,  nor  provide  them  for  the  entertain- 
ment of  our  friends;  and  that  we  will,  in  all  suitable  ways,  dis- 
countenance the  use  of  them  in  the  community  at  large." 


NOTES  293 

s  The  Excise  Returns  may  be  referred  to  as  conclusive  evidence 
of  the  diminution  in  the  consumption  of  ardent  spirits:  it  is 
understood  that  in  all  the  southern  provinces  the  revenue  is  not 
sufficient  to  pay  for  the  collection  of  it ;  and  it  is  rumoured  that  ar- 
rangements are  in  progress  for  a  large  reduction  of  the  expensive 
force  employed  by  the  Office.  There  are  now  but  two  distilleries 
at  work  in  the  whole  county  of  Cork,  and  at  the  late  fair  of  Bal- 
linasloe — the  great  cattle  fair  of  Ireland — there  were  but  eight  gal- 
lons of  whiskey  consumed;  the  average  consumption  heretofore  be- 
ing between  seven  and  eight  puncheons — i.  e.  about  800  gallons. 
The  private  stills  are,  as  we  have  stated,  entirely  abandoned;  one 
of  the  most  fertile  sources  of  demoralization  among  the  peasantry 
has,  therefore,  been  put  an  end  to. 

8  At  Clonmel  we  had  the  safest  means  of  knowing,  that  out  of 
four  thousand,  of  which  one  society  consists,  there  had  been  but 
four  "  backsliders."  We  naturally  asked  how  it  was  possible  to 
ascertain  when  the  pledge  was  broken,  if  it  were  broken  in  private; 
and  were  told  that  each  member  was  expected,  as  a  moral  duty,  to 
communicate  to  the  secretary  the  name  of  any  member  entering 
a  public-house,  or  sending  one  of  his  family  to  it.  This  is  of  im- 
portance, as  breaking  down  one  of  the  strongest  barriers  against 
Irish  improvement — the  unwillingness  to  inform  against  a  person 
who  has  committed  a  crime,  no  matter  how  abhorrent  may  be  the 
crime  and  its  perpetrator  to  the  feelings  of  the  witness,  arising  out 
of  the  contempt  and  hatred  with  which  an  "informer"  is  re- 
garded. 

10  In  order  to  obtain  some  idea  of  the  practical  working  of  the 
system,  in  promoting  economy  among  the  humbler  classes,  we  ob- 
tained returns  from  several  of  the  savings-banks  in  the  towns  we 
visited.  It  will  suffice  perhaps  to  publish  those  from  Cork,  where 
it  had  been  at  work  earlier  than  elsewhere. 

For  the  year  ending  the  20th  of  Nov.  1838,  the  number  of 
"  small  deposits,"  i.  e.  under  £5,  was  five  thousand  two  hundred 
and  fifteen. 

For  the  year  ending  20th  November,  1839,  six  thousand  four 
hundred  and  fifty-seven. 

Being  an  increase  of  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  forty-two. 

The  returns  for  the  year  1840  we  have  not  obtained.  We  do  not 
expect  they  will  be  so  encouraging;  for  the  autumn  of  this  year 
was  a  season  of  frightful  want,  one  of  those  periodical  visitations 
of  poverty  to  which  Ireland  has  been  unhappily  subject.  Potatoes 
throughout  the  south  averaged  from  8d.  to  lOd.  a  stone,  and  they 
were  frequently  of  so  bad  a  quality  that  often  a  third  was  unfit 


294  IRELAND 

for  use.  The  difficulty  of  procuring  them  at  any  cost  was  so  great, 
that  the  inhabitants  of  many  towns  interfered  to  prevent  even  a 
portion  from  leaving  their  own  districts.  At  Bandon  we  beheld  a 
melancholy  scene — several  carts  returning  empty  to  their  homes 
in  the  country,  which  they  had  quitted  in  the  morning  with  money 
to  procure  food,  but  compelled  to  go  back  without  it.  Women 
and  children  accompanied  them  with  loud  cries ;  literally  "  keen- 
ing," as  if  they  were  following  a  corpse  to  its  place  of  rest.  In 
Clonmel  we  saw  the  estimable  rector  distributing  aid  in  food  to 
2,800  persons.  In  Kilkenny  the  state  of  things  was  still  worse.  A 
benevolent  gentleman,  the  editor  of  a  newspaper  in  that  city,  as- 
sured us  that,  on  the  morning  of  our  visit,  he  had  issued  tickets 
for  meal,  at  a  very  reduced  price,  to  2,500  families,  computed  to 
consist  of  ten  thousand  persons;  nearly  half  the  population. 

If  to  this  want  of  food  had  been  added  the  evils  of  intem- 
perance, the  consequences  would  have  been  frightful.  Yet,  during 
the  three  months  that  the  famine  prevailed,  except  in  Limerick, 
where  there  was  some  disturbance,  there  was  scarcely  an  instance 
of  breach  of  the  peace.  The  people  endured  their  sufferings  and 
misery  with  wonderful  patience;  and,  with  the  one  exception,  no  at- 
tempt was  made  by  the  starving  multitudes  to  obtain  that  which 
was  the  property  of  another. 

We  allude  to  these  circumstances  chiefly  to  account  for  the  fact 
— we  cannot  doubt  its  being  so — that  this  year  the  receipts  at 
the  various  savings  banks  have  not  increased,  the  savings  having 
been  to  a  large  extent  drawn  out  to  preserve  existence. 

11  It  is  a  fundamental  rule  of  all  the  branch  societies,  of  which 
there  are  many  hundreds  scattered  through  the  country,  that  "  no 
person  even  suspected  of  being  a  member  of  any  illegal  associa- 
tion, or  of  being  bound  by  combination  oaths,  shall  be  allowed  to 
become  a  subscriber  to  any  of  the  reading-rooms  (where  the  mem- 
bers meet)  until  he  has  fully  cleared  himself  from  such  suspicion 
or  accusation."     It  is  further  provided  that,  in  these  rooms,  "no 
political  or  religious  controversy  shall  be,  on  any  account,  allowed." 

12  Mr.  Mathew  asserts,  and  we  presume  can  support  his  asser- 
tion by  proof,  that  no  member  of  the  Temperance  Society  had 
been  "brought  before  judge  and  jury,"  up  to  the  22nd  of  Sep- 
tember of  the  present  year. 

is  For  the  card  and  medal,  if  we  understand  rightly,  the  mem- 
ber is  expected  to  pay  one  shilling;  this  has  given  rise  to  an  in- 
quiry as  to  what  becomes  of  the  money  so  collected.  The  pledge 
may  be  taken  without  receiving  the  medal;  we  met  many  persons 
who  had  not  been  rich  enough  to  obtain  it,  and  who  were  saving 


NOTES  295 

their  pence  to  do  so.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Mac  Leod,  the  coadjutor  of 
Mr.  Mathew,  assures  us  that  "  not  a  fourth'  of  the  two  and  a  half 
millions  belonging  to  the  society  have  taken  either  card  or  medal," 
and  that  a  large  number  have  received  them  gratis.  Although  the 
amount  raised  has  been  therefore  much  exaggerated,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  it  is  considerable;  we  should  counsel  the  furnishing 
some  statement,  but  that  to  do  so  would  be  difficult,  inasmuch  as  a 
great  proportion  of  it  is,  to  our  knowledge,  spent  in  affording 
temporary  relief  to  those  who  come,  wretched,  poor,  and  diseased, 
from  distances,  and  in  forwarding  various  other  objects  of  charity. 
A  chapel,  a  tasteful  and  beautiful  example  of  architecture,  is 
erecting  by  Mr.  Kearns  Dean,  the  cost  of  which  is  to  be  defrayed 
out  of  the  proceeds  of  the  society.  It  is  only  justice  to  Mr. 
Mathew  to  state,  that  we  have  never  heard  a  suspicion  expressed 
that  the  money  was  improperly  expended. 

i*  In  a  letter  lately  written  by  Mr.  Mathew,  he  admits  not  only 
that  these  superstitions  exist,  but  that  they  are  not  discounte- 
nanced by  him.  "If  I  could  prevent  them,"  he  says,  " without 
impeding  the  glorious  cause,  they  should  not  have  been  permitted; 
but  both  are  so  closely  entwined,  that  the  tares  cannot  be  pulled 
out  without  plucking  up  the  wheat  also.  The  evil  will  correct 
itself;  and  the  good,  with  the  Divine  assistance,  will  remain  and 
be  permanent."  It  should  be  suggested  to  him  that  the  greatest 
danger  of  relapse  will  arise  from  the  discovery  that  such  imagin- 
ings are  unsubstantial  and  unreal. 

is  The  Rev.  Matthew  Horgan,  the  Parish  Priest  of  Blarney,  in- 
forms us  that  "  the  curious  traveller  will  seek  in  vain  for  the  real 
stone,  unless  he  allows  himself  to  be  lowered  from  the  northern 
angle  of  the  lofty  castle,  when  he  will  discover  it  about  twenty 
feet  from  the  top,  with  this  inscription: — 

COHMAC   Me   CARTHY   FOHTIS 

ME    FIEEI    FECIT.      A.D.    1446." 

The  worthy  Priest  was  our  kind  and  courteous  companion  among 
the  ruins,  and  the  picturesque  scenery  in  the  neighbourhood.  He 
is  an  Irish  scholar — "  a  ripe  and  good  one  " — who  has  contributed 
largely  to  rescue  from  oblivion  much  of  the  antiquarian  lore  of 
his  country ;  and  we  have  to  acknowledge  some  pleasant  and  profit- 
able hours  passed  in  his  society. 

is  Not  far  distant  from  Blarney  are  the  remains  of  an  ancient 
castle  built  by  the  English  family  of  Barrett:  it  is  said  that 
O'Neil,  Earl  of  Tyrone,  on  marching  by  it  in  1600,  inquired  who 


296  IRELAND 

lived  there,  and  being  answered  that  the  owner  was  a  good  catho- 
lic, who  had  possessed  it  for  four  hundred  years,  swore  in  Irish: 
"  No  matter,  I  hate  the  English  churl  as  if  he  came  but  yester- 
day." The  .feeling  is  by  no  means  confined  to  the  ancient  chief- 
tains or  their  descendants;  an  illustrative  anecdote  once  came 
under  our  own  notice.  We  had  with  us  an  English  servant,  who, 
on  going  to  market,  was  hailed  by  a  basket-woman  wanting  em- 
ployment: "I  b'leve,  ma'am,  you're  English?"  "Yes."  "So  am 
I,  ma'am."  "Indeed!  when  did  you  come  over  to  Ireland?" 
"  Oh !  ma'am,  I  came  over  wid  Oliver  Crom'ell."  A  Roman  Catho- 
lic clergyman  of  Cork  was,  during  our  recent  visit  to  that  city, 
called  upon  to  administer  the  last  rites  of  his  church  to  an  aged 
and  dying  woman.  On  his  entrance,  she  addressed  him  in  Eng- 
lish; and  after  he  had  had  a  brief  conversation  with  her,  she  com- 
menced her  "confession;"  speaking,  however,  in  Irish.  The  Priest 
was  ignorant  of  the  language,  and  told  her  so.  "  Then,"  she  asked, 
"what  brought  ye  here  to  me,  if  ye  can't  speak  in  my  tongue, 
when  ye  knew  what  ye  were  wanted  for?"  "Good  woman,"  he 
replied,  "you  understand  English,  and  I  can  perform  my  duty 
as  well  in  that  language  as  in  any  other."  The  weak  and  ema- 
ciated woman  raised  herself  from  her  straw  pillow,  and  looking 
earnestly  and  angrily  at  her  clergyman,  thus  addressed  him: 
"And  did  you  think  I  was  going  to  say  my  last  words  to  God 
Almighty  in  the  language  of  the  Sassenach?" 

17  We  should  note  that  various  other  fine  buildings  are  "  in, 
progress  "  to  ornament  the  city ;  which  may  boast  of  some  of  the 
most  skilful  architects  in  the  kingdom. 

is  The  Archdekens  were  an  Anglo-Irish  family,  who  "  degenerat- 
ing "  became  "  Hibernices  quam  Hiberniores " — more  Irish  than 
the  Irish  themselves,  and  assumed  the  name  of  Mac  Odo,  or  Cody. 
They  "forfeited"  in  1688,  having  followed  the  fortunes  of 
James  II. 

1*  "  You're  welcome — you're  welcome, 

Vice-Admiral  Malcolm, 
To  anchor  your  squadron  at  Cove; 

And,  moreover,  the  stronger 

Your  force,  and  the  longer 
Your  stay — the  more  welcome,  by  Jove,"  &c. 

20  Mr.  J.  Windele,  the  author  of  an  interesting  and  valuable 
work,  "  Notices  of  Cork  and  its  Vicinity,"  supplies  the  following 
table,  kept  for  ten  months  of  the  year  1833-^.,  with  a  view  to  ex- 
hibit the  slight  range  or  variation  of  temperature  that  had  taken 


NOTES  297 

place  at  Cove;  and  argues,  upon  safe  grounds  and  upon  good  au- 
thority, that  those  who  seek  to  renovate  health  in  continental 
climes  may  perceive  how  attainable  it  is  nearer  home,  where  ex- 
tremes of  heat  or  cold  are  alike  unknown: — 

April   May    June    July    Nov.   Dec.    Jan.     Feb. 
Mean  highest . .     53         63        63        70        57        52        49         50 
Mean  lowest...     47        50        50        56        47        46        43        43 

21 "  The  episcopal  house,"  says  the  amiable  Bishop  Bennett,  "  is 
at  the  east  end  of  the  village,  a  large  irregular  building,  having 
been  altered  and  improved  by  different  bishops,  but  altogether  a 
comfortable  and  handsome  residence.  The  side  next  the  village 
has  a  very  close  screen  of  trees  and  shrubs,  and  three  other  sides 
look  to  a  large  garden,  and  a  farm  of  four  hundred  acres.  This 
farm  constitutes  what  is  called  the  mensal  lands,  is  generally  close 
to  the  palace,  and  was  intended  for  the  corn  and  cattle  consumed 
at  the  bishop's  table.  The  garden  is  large — four  acres — consist- 
ing of  four  quarters  full  of  fruit,  particularly  strawberries  and 
raspberries,  which  Bishop  Berkeley  had  a  predilection  for;  and 
separated  as  well  as  surrounded  by  shrubberies,  which  contain 
some  pretty  winding  walks,  and  one  large  one,  of  nearly  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  long,  adorned  for  great  parts  of  its  length  by  a  hedge 
of  myrtles,  six  feet  high,  planted  by  Berkeley's  own  hand,  and 
which  had  each  of  them  a  large  ball  of  tar  put  to  their  roots. 

"  At  the  end  of  the  garden  is  what  we  call  the  rock  shrubbery, 
a  walk  leading  under  young  trees  among  sequestered  crags  of 
limestone  which  hang  many  feet  above  our  heads,  and  ending  at 
the  mouth  of  a  cave  of  unknown  length  and  depth,  branching  to 
a  great  distance  under  the  earth,  and  sanctified  by  a  thousand 
wild  traditions;  and  which  I  have  no  doubt  sheltered  the  first  wild 
inhabitants  of  the  town  itself,  cluain  being  the  Irish  name  for  a 
cave,  or  place  of  retirement.  I  have  enclosed  this  place,"  con- 
tinues Bishop  Bennett,  "which  is  a  favourite  spot  of  mine,  with  a 
low  wall;  enlarged  its  limits,  and  planted  it  with  shrubs,  which 
grow  in  this  southern  part  of  Ireland  (where  frost  is  unknown) 
to  a  luxuriance  of  which  the  tall  myrtles  I  have  mentioned  may 
give  you  some  idea.  Here  I  always  spend  some  part  of  every 
day;  sometimes  with  the  mistress  of  my  affections,  with  her  arm 
in  mine.  On  a  Sunday,  too,  the  gates  are  always  thrown  open, 
that  my  cathob'c  neighbours  may  indulge  themselves  with  a  walk 
to  the  cave. 

"  Of   Berkeley  little  is  remembered,   though  his   benevolence,   I 


298  IRELAND 

have  no  doubt,  was  widely  diffused.  He  made  no  improvement  to 
the  house;  yet  the  part  he  inhabited  wanted  it  much,  for  it  is  now 
thought  only  good  enough  for  the  upper  servants.  My  study  is 
the  room  where  he  kept  his  apparatus  for  tar-water.  There  is 
no  chapel  in  the  house;  but  a  private  door  from  the  garden  leads 
to  the  cathedral." 

22  It  would  be  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of  open- 
ing roads  through  the  less  frequented  districts  of  Ireland.    The 
necessity  which  formerly  existed  for  keeping  a  large  armed  force 
there  has  had,   at  least,  this  one   good   effect:  "military  roads" 
are  to  be  found  in  all  quarters.     One  of  the  wildest  mountain- 
tracts  of  the  county  of  Cork  was,  a  few  years  ago,  in  such  a  state 
of  insubordination  as  to  be  dangerous  for  travellers  at  all  seasons, 
and  a  source  of  considerable  annoyance  to  the  Government.    The 
question  was  asked,  "What  was  to  be  done?"    A  shrewd  adviser 
answered,  "  Make  a  road  through  it."    The  advice  was  taken,  and 
the  Bograh  mountains  are  now  peaceable  and  prosperous. 

23  Derrick,  so  late  as  1760,  writes  that  he  set  out  from  Cork  for 
Killarney  "  on  horseback,  the  city  of  Corke  not  affording  at  this 
time  any  sort  of  carriage  for  hire." 

2*  We  hired  this  car  in  Cork  for  twenty  days,  at  the  rate  of  ten 
shillings  a  day,  expenses  of  man  and  horse  included;  for  two  per- 
sons it  is  a  very  desirable  mode  of  travelling.  It  is  needless  to 
say  that  objects  of  the  greatest  attraction  do  not  often  lie  in  the 
beaten  track,  and  that  the  most  interesting  and  picturesque  roads 
are  seldom  posted. 

25  This    arrangement   has    been   characterized    as    unsocial — but 
conversation  is  easily  carried  on  by  leaning  across  "  the  well."    Its 
disadvantage  is,  that  the  eye  can  take  in  but  the  half  of  a  land- 
scape; a  caustic  friend  likened  it  to  the  Irish  character — which 
limits  the  vision  to  a  one-sided  view  of  everything. 

26  We  shall,  however,  have  some  observations  to  offer  on  this 
subject  hereafter;   and  especially  in  reference  to  the  rough  and 
careless  way  in  which  the  roads  are  kept  in  repair;  the  stones 
that  are  laid  down  being  generally  huge  knobs,  that  must  remain 
for  a  year  or  two  before  they  are  sufficiently  broken.    This  method 
of  improvement  is  by  the  peasantry  sarcastically  called  "powder 
pavement."    We  had  once  a  rather  whimsical  illustration  of  its 
advantages.    Travelling   post,    and    about   to   change  horses,   the 
landlord  of  the  inn  came  to  our  carriage  door,  and  politely  in- 
formed us  we  must  have  four  horses  for  the  next  stage.     We  an- 
swered,  that   we  had  travelled   it   a  year  before  with   but  two. 
"  Oh ! "  he  replied,  "  but  the  road  has  been  mended  since  then." 


NOTES  299 

An  illustration  is  supplied  by  a  road  in  the  vicinity  of  Cork,  be- 
tween the  villages  of  Carrigaline  and  Monkstown.  Part  of  it  is 
old,  and,  according  to  the  ancient  plan,  hilly;  to  avoid  a  consider- 
able elevation,  a  piece  of  new  road  was  formed  some  time  ago, 
substituting  a  dead  flat  for  a  steep ;  but  so  defective  is  the  ground- 
work of  this  new  line,  that  all  travellers  avoid  it,  taking  the  hill 
in  preference.  The  new  work  is,  therefore,  perfectly  useless;  and 
will  continue  so  until  the  old  road  has  become  entirely  impassable. 
2T  If  the  Irishman  was  not  too  firmly  wedded  to  old  habits,  we 
should  propose  for  his  consideration  a  plan  for  providing  his  boys 
with  jackets;  namely,  cutting  off  the  tails  of  his  unwieldy  big 
coat;  it  is  a  constant  custom  when  walking  to  throw  it  over  the 
left  arm,  and  it  has  always  appeared  to  us  an  unnecessary  waste 
of  cloth. 

28  We  were  accompanied  on  our  visit  to  Youghall  and  Lismore, 
and  subsequently  into  Tipperary,  by  William  Willes,  Esq.,  of  Cork 
— an  accomplished  artist,  to  whom  the  readers  of  this  work  will 
be  largely  indebted;  and  from  whose  observation,  information,  and 
experience,  we  derived  as  much  benefit  as  we  did  from  his  pencil. 

29  Sir  Joseph  Banks,  who  took  considerable  pains  to  investigate 
the  subject,  considers  that  the  potato  was  introduced  into  the 
British  Islands   (but  not  first  in  Ireland)   in  July,  1586,  by  the 
return  expedition  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh;   for  which  the  patent 
passed  the  Great  Seal  in  1584.     Heriot,  a  scientific  man,  who  ac- 
companied the  expedition,  describes,  under  the  head  of  "  roots," 
those  called  in  Virginia  "  Openawk,"  which  he  says  are  "  round, 
some  as  large  as  a  walnut,  others  much  larger;  they  grow  in  damp 
soil,  many  hanging  together,  as  if  fixed  on  ropes;  they  are  good 
food,  either  boiled  or  roasted."    The  baron  Cuvier  denies  that  the 
potato  was  derived  from  Virginia. 

so  Old  Gerard,  the  English  herbalist,  who  lived  in  1590,  thus  de- 
scribes the  potato-luxury:  "  The  potato  roots  are,  among  the 
Spaniards,  Italians,  and  many  other  nations,  common  and  ordi- 
nary meate;  which  no  doubt  are  of  mighty  nourishing  parts,  and 
so  strengthen  and  comfort  nature,  whose  nutriment  is,  as  it  were, 
a  mean  between  flesh  and  fruit,  though  somewhat  windy;  but, 
being  roasted  in  the  embers,  they  do  lose  much  of  their  windiness, 
especially  being  eaten  sopped  in  wine.  Of  these  roots  may  be 
made  conserves;  no  less  toothsome,  wholesome,  and  daintie,  than 
of  the  flesh  of  quinces.  And  likewise  those  comfortable  and  deli- 
cate meates  called  in  shops  morcelli,  placentulae,  and  divers  others 
such  like.  These  roots  may  serve  as  a  ground  or  foundation 
whereon  the  cunning  confectioner  or  sugar-baker  may  worke  and 


300  IRELAND 

frame  many  delicate  conserves  and  restorative  sweetmeates.  They 
are  used  to  be  eaten  roasted  in  the  ashes;  some,  when  they  be 
so  roasted,  infuse  them  and  sop  them  in  wine;  and  others,  to  give 
them  the  greater  grace  in  eating,  do  boil  them  with  prunes  and 
eat  them." 

31  It  is  generally  believed,  however,  that  the  potato,  celebrated 
in  the  Elizabethan  age,  "  is  not  the  same  root  as  that  now  com- 
monly known  by  the  name." 

32  The  Earl  of  Desmond,  of  whom  we  shall  have  to  speak  here- 
after, in  visiting  Kilmallock,  "  the  Balbec  of  Ireland,"  was  per- 
haps the  greatest  subject,  at  that  time,  in  Europe.     Besides  his 
numerous  vassals,  he  had,  it  is  said,  500  followers — gentlemen  of 
his  name  and  kindred.    At  his  attainder,  his  confiscated  estates 
amounted    to    574,628    English    acres,    which    were   parcelled    out 
among  the  queen's  soldiers  as  rewards  for  crushing  the  rebellion. 

33  In  his  poem  of  "  Colin  Clout's  Come  Home  Again,"  the  poet 
Spenser  thus  speaks  of  the  visit  of  Raleigh  to  Kilcoleman: — 

" 1  sate,  as  was  my  trade, 

Under  the  foot  of  Mole,  that  mountain  hore; 
Keeping  my  sheep  amongst  the  cooly  shade 

Of  the  green  alders  by  the  Mulla's  shore. 
There  a  strange  shepherd  chaunced  to  find  me  out; 

Whether  allured  with  my  pipe's  delight, 
Whose  pleasing  sound  yshrilled  far  about, 

Or  thither  led  by  chance,  I  know  not  right; 
Whom  when  I  asked  from  what  place  he  came 

And  how  he  hight,  himself  he  did  ycleep 
The  shepherd  of  the  ocean  by  name, 

And  said  he  came  far  from  the  main  sea  deep." 

And  again,  he  describes  Sir  Walter  sitting  beside  him  on  the 
banks  of  the  Mulla  listening  to  the  music  of  his  pipe: — 

"  And  when  he  heard  the  musicke  which  I  made, 
He  found  himself e  full  greatly  pleas'd  at  it; 
Yet  aemuling  my  pipe;  he  took  in  hand 
My  pipe,  before  that  aemuled  of  many, 
And  played  thereon  (for  well  that  skill  he  cou'd), 
Himselfe  as  skilful  in  that  art  as  any." 

s*  The  present  Duke  of  Devonshire  is  the  proprietor  of  Youghall 
and  Lismore;  inheriting  in  the  female  line  through  the  Clifford 


NOTES  301 

family,  to  the  heiress  of  which  noble  line  Lord  Cork's  eldest  son, 
created  Earl  of  Burlington  in  1663,  was  married. 

ss  The  house  is  called  "  Myrtle  Grove,"  from  the  luxurious 
growth  of  the  myrtles,  by  which  it  is  nearly  covered;  some  of 
which  are  between  twenty  and  thirty  feet  high. 

36  One  of  these  anecdotes  we  may  quote.     Raleigh  had  been  di- 
rected to  take  prisoners  the  Lord  Roche  and  his  lady,  and  con- 
vey them  to  Cork;  a  task  of  no  ordinary  difficulty  and  danger, 
for  Roche  was  safely  ensconced  in  his  strong  castle,  and  the  roads 
were  beset  with  the  troops  of  the  seneschal  of  Imokilly,  who  had 
notice  of  the  design.    Sir  Walter  managed  to  avoid  them,  and  ar- 
rived at  the  castle  early  in  the  morning,  with  a  force  of  about 
ninety  men ;  "  whereupon  the  townsmen,  to  the  number  of  five  hun- 
dred, immediately  took  up  arms."     The  knight  marched  directly 
to  the  gate,  and  desired  to  speak  with  the  lord;  which  was  agreed 
to,  provided  he  would  bring  with  him  but  two  or  three  of  his  fol- 
lowers.   The  gate  being  opened,  he  and  six  of  his  soldiers  entered; 
and  after  he  had  seen  Lord  Roche  and  spoken  to  him,  by  degrees 
Raleigh  contrived  to  draw  in  a  considerable  number  of  his  men, 
and  to  take  possession  of  the  outworks  of  the  castle.     Lord  Roche 
"  put  the  best  face  he  could  upon  the  matter,"  and  invited  the 
captain  to  dine  with  him.    After  dinner,  Raleigh  informed  him 
of  the  purport  of  his  mission;  when  his  lordship,  finding  excuses 
of  no  avail,  "  resolutely  said  he  would  not  depart."    But  Raleigh 
letting  him  know  that  he  would  take  him  by  force,  he  found  there 
was  no  remedy,  and  he  and  his  lady  set  out  on  the  journey,  on 
a  most  rainy  and  tempestuous  night,  and  through  a  very  rocky 
and  dangerous  way,  whereby  many  of  the  soldiers  were  severely 
hurt,  and  others  lost  their  arms.     However,  the  badness  of  the 
weather  prevented  their  being  attacked  by  the  seneschal:  and  they 
arrived  safe  in  the  city  [of  Cork]    (a  distance  of  twenty  miles) 
by  break  of  day,  to  the  great  joy  of  the  garrison,  who  were  sur- 
prised that  Raleigh  had  escaped  so  hazardous  an  enterprise. 

37  In  Archdale's  "  Monasticon,"  there  is  a  singular  account  of  its 
origin;  if  this  be,  indeed,  the  structure  referred  to,  of  which  there 
is  some  doubt.     It  was  founded  in  1224,  for  Franciscan  friars,  by 
Maurice  Fitzgerald.     He  was  building  a  castle  on  the  spot;  the 
workmen  who  were  digging  the  foundations,  on  the  eve  of  some 
festival,  requested  a  piece  of  money  to  drink  his  health,  which  he 
desired  his  eldest  son  to  give  them.     Instead  of  obeying  the  com- 
mand, he  abused  the  men;  the  act  of  disobedience  and  parsimony 
coming   to  the   father's   ears,   he   changed   his   plan,   and   built   a 
monastery    instead   of   a    castle,    as    a    punishment    to    his    heir- 


302  IRELAND 

apparent.  To  this  monastery,  Maurice  Fitzgerald,  who  had  been 
Lord  Justice  of  Ireland,  subsequently  retired,  assumed  the  habit 
of  St.  Francis,  died,  and  was  interred  within  its  walls.  Several 
other  members  of  "  the  princely  house  of  Desmond  "  are  entombed 
here. 

as  Of  the  numerous  castles  in  the  districts,  over  which  we  can 
afford  only  to  glance,  we  may  particularize  Mogeely,  on  the  south 
side  of  the  Blackwater,  and  a  few  miles  north  of  Youghall,  of 
which  the  following  traditionary  anecdote  is  told: — Thomas,  Earl 
of  Desmond,  had  a  favourite  steward  who  often  "  took  great  liber- 
ties with  his  lord,"  and  who,  having  issued  invitations  to  all  the 
chiefs  of  Munster  with  their  followers  to  spend  a  month  at  the 
castle,  filled  it  with  guests,  for  whose  entertainment  the  master 
was  unprepared.  In  a  few  days  provisions  grew  scarce,  and  the 
earl,  alarmed  at  the  danger  of  sacrificing  his  reputation  for  munif- 
icent hospitality — for  "his  pride  would  not  brook  to  let  his  visit- 
ors know  the  strait  he  was  in  " — devised  a  stratagem  to  save  his 
credit,  and  gave  command  to  his  servants  to  set  fire  to  the  castle 
while  the  party  was  out  hunting,  and,  of  course,  to  pretend  it 
was  consumed  by  accident.  Luckily,  the  steward,  who  had  been 
absent,  returned  in  time  to  rescind  the  order;  and  when  the  earl 
wended  homeward  "  with  a  heavy  heart,  expecting  to  see  Mogeely 
in  flames,"  he  was  met  "  by  a  large  prey  of  corn  and  cattle  "  suf- 
ficient to  subsist  him  and  his  company  for  many  months.  In  this 
tradition  originated  the  "  extravagant  expedient,"  as  it  has  been 
critically  called,  to  which  Sir  Walter  Scott  resorted  in  his  beauti- 
ful fiction  of  the  Bride  of  Lammermoor,  by  making  Caleb  Balder- 
stone  burn,  or  pretend  to  burn,  his  master's  castle,  to  avoid  giving 
a  reception  to  the  Marquis. 

39  There  were  not  wanting  some  to  speak  their  minds  plainly  to 
the  heartless  sovereign;  to  express  themselves  with  the  bold  spirit 
so  characteristic  of  their  country.  It  is  stated  that  a  Colonel 
Costelloe  thus  addressed  the  king,  in  reply  to  his  customary  taunt 
of  insolent  condolence:  "Please  your  majesty,  I  ask  no  compen- 
sation for  my  services  and  losses  in  your  majesty's  cause;  I  see 
that  to  your  friends,  and  to  my  countrymen  in  particular,  you 
give  nothing;  and  that  it  is  your  enemies  alone  who  receive  favour 
and  reward.  For  ten  year's  service,  for  many  wounds,  and  for 
the  total  loss  of  my  estates,  I  ask  nothing;  but  in  the  ardour  of 
youth,  and  in  the  belief  that  I  was  asserting  the  sacred  cause  of 
liberty,  I  fought,  for  one  year,  in  the  service  of  the  usurper: — give 
me  back  such  portion  of  my  estates  as  that  year's  service  entitles 
me  to." 


NOTES  303 

40  As  an  instance  of  the  value  of  local  tradition,  we  may  mention 
an  anecdote  related  to  us  by  a  gentleman  who  inquired  of  his 
guide  what  had  occasioned  the  accumulation  of  so  many  skulls  and 
bones  at  the  entrance  to  Buttevant  Abbey.    "  The  reply,"  he  added, 
"  was  one  of  the  most  ridiculous  you  can  conceive — '  Faix,   Sir, 
'twas  a  battle  that  Alexander  the  Great  was  killed  in,  that  was 
fought  hereabouts ! ' — Can  anything  be  more  absurd  than  this  ?  " 
he  concluded  with  an  air  of  triumph.     Now  we  did  not  agree  with 
him  in  his   opinion,   and  ventured  to  show  our  friend  that  the 
"  Ollistrum  More  "  of  Irish  tradition — so  was  Milton's  "  Colkitto 
or  Macdonnell"  called — was  literally  and  correctly  translated,  by 
his  guide,  as  Alexander  the  Great. 

41  In  reference  to  this  matter,  a  whimsical  circumstance  occurred 
to  us  while  travelling  on  a  car  between  Dunbrody  and  Wexford. 
We  had  been  talking  over  it,  and  speculating  on  the  possibility  of 
some  happy  chance  enabling  us  to  enrich  the  world  by  finding  these 
"  lost  books  "  in  some  sequestered  nook,  when  the  carman  turned 
suddenly  round  and  startled  us  by  an  exclamation — "  I  know  the 
man  that  has  'em."     For  an  instant  our  hearts  leapt  with  joy,  and 
we  eagerly  asked,  "Who?  where?"    "Oh,  bedad,  sir,  I  know  the 
man  that  has  'em;  he  lives  at  Ballyhack,  and  has  thim  and  the 
pinny  magazine — both." 

42 The  famous  "caves"  are  in  the  county  of  Tipperary;  we 
shall  describe  them  hereafter:  some  idea  of  their  extent  may  be 
gathered  from  the  fact  that  we  traversed  them  for  upwards  of 
five  hours. 

43  For  the  present,  it  is  only  necessary  to  state,  that  the  Lepre- 
hawn — or  Cluricaun,  or  Lurigadaun,  or  Loherimaun,  or  Luriceen — 
is  a  sort  of  material  fairy,  capable  of  being  taken  prisoner  by 
mortal  hands.    The  person  who  is  lucky  enough  to  encounter  him 
has  the  power  to  compel  him  to  surrender  his  treasure,  provided 
he  keeps  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  cunning  creature,  who  generally 
succeeds  in  averting  the  sight  of  his  captor,  and  is  then  gone  in 
an  instant.     The  Leprehawn  is  the  brogue-maker  of  the  "  good 
people,"  and  is  almost  invariably  found  at  work,  with  his  lapstone 
on  his  knee. 

44  These  ruined  churches  are  favourite  burial-places  of  the  peas- 
antry; and  it  is  a  common  custom  to  make  head-stones  of  frag- 
ments of  broken  pillars,  mullions,  and  fretted  work. 

45  There  are  two  very  opposite  stories  in  reference  to  the  career 
and  death  of  this  remarkable  man;  both,  however,  agree  in  describ- 
ing him  as  "handsome,  generous,  brave;"  high-spirited,  "sudden 
and  quick  in  quarrel;"  and  jealous  for  the  honour  of  his  religion. 


304  IRELAND 

One  story  goes,  that  a  horse  of  O'Leary's  having  beaten,  in  a 
race,  the  horse  of  a  Mr.  Morris,  the  latter  claimed  it;  tendering, 
in  an  insulting  manner,  its  price  upon  the  race-course : — "  Papist, 
five  pounds  for  your  horse"  (by  the  seventh  of  William  III.,  chap. 
5,  Roman  Catholics  were  disabled  from  having  or  keeping  a  horse 
exceeding  five  pounds  in  value).  A  quarrel  ensued,  and  O'Leary, 
with  threats  of  vengeance,  made  his  escape.  It  is  said  that  a 
magistrate  was  found  upon  the  spot,  who  by  a  summary  proceed- 
ing proclaimed  O'Leary  an  outlaw,  while  the  echo  of  his  horse's 
hoofs  was  ringing  in  the  air,  and  that  he  was  immediately  followed 
by  a  band  of  soldiers.  Others  say,  that  he  rode  about  the  county 
for  some  months,  armed  at  all  points,  and  protected  by  the  peas- 
antry. Hunted  by  the  military,  he  had  distanced  them,  and,  as 
he  thought,  was  in  safety  within  sight  of  his  own  house,  when, 
in  the  spirit  of  his  natural  daring,  he  turned  round  and  waved 
his  hat  to  his  pursuers.  His  triumph  was  short;  a  bullet  from  the 
musket  of  a  raw  recruit,  the  first  it  is  said  he  ever  fired,  laid  him 
dead  upon  the  road.  Morris  was  tried  for  the  murder  and  ac- 
quitted. A  short  time  afterwards  he  was  shot  at,  "  in  his  lodgings 
near  Hammond's  Marsh,"  by  the  younger  brother  of  O'Leary,  who 
succeeded  in  escaping  to  America.  This  circumstance  took  place 
in  1773.  Another  version  of  the  story  has  been  furnished  us  by 
a  friend  intimately  acquainted  with  the  neighbourhood  in  which 
it  occurred;  and  it  illustrates  the  wild  and  reckless  character  of 
the  Irish  gentlemen  of  the  period.  O'Leary  was  remarkable  for 
many  personal  qualities,  for  manly  beauty  and  great  strength; 
had  unrivalled  dexterity  in  athletic  exercises,  and  courage  ap- 
proaching to  madness.  He  engaged  in  a  mortal  feud  with  one  of 
the  neighbouring  gentry;  which  originated,  as  stated  by  our  in- 
formant, not  in  a  dispute  concerning  a  horse,  but  in  a  scuffle  for 
priority  in  obtaining  a  goblet  of  water  which  an  old  woman  handed 
to  them  at  a  spring  near  Mount  Massey,  called  the  Spa.  For  the 
assault,  O'Leary  was  indicted,  and  bound  to  stand  his  trial;  but 
he  failed  to  appear,  and  resisted  the  recovery  of  his  recognizances, 
which  were  estreated.  A  writ  of  outlawry  consequently  issued 
against  him;  and  he  went  abroad  for  a  time.  On  his  return  he 
made  no  attempt  to  conceal  himself,  but  frequented  fairs  and 
markets,  armed,  and  bidding  ostentatious  defiance  to  his  enemies. 
The  feud  with  his  old  adversary  was  renewed,  and  it  became  evi- 
dent that  one  of  the  opponents  would  inevitably  slay  the  other. 
A  party  of  soldiers  were  stationed  to  arrest  O'Leary  near  his 
house;  he  sallied  out  to  meet  them;  several  shots  were  exchanged; 
when  "  a  little  soldier,"  a  raw  recruit,  covered  him  with  his  piece, 


NOTES  305 

saying,  "  I'm  sure  to  hit  him  now,"  pulled  the  trigger,  and  O'Leary 
fell  dead. 

46  The  hospitality  of  the  Mac  Sweeny  and  the  O'Leary,  is  how- 
ever eclipsed  by  that  of  another  Irish  chieftain,  the  ancestor  of 
the  O'Sullivans,  a  race  of  whom  the  legend  says,  "  Nulla  manus, 
tarn  liberalis,  atque  generalis,  atque  universalis,  quam  Sullivanus." 
The  name  is  said  to  have  originated  from  the  following  circum- 
stance.   There  chanced  to  arrive  in  Ireland,  from  Albany,  a  one- 
eyed  Druid,  who  was  also  a  bard,  named  Levawn.     He  was  hos- 
pitably received  by  Eochy — chief  of  his  name  and  nation — who 
had  also  but  one  eye.    When  the  Druid  was  departing  from  the 
castle,  he  refused  all  the  rich  gifts  offered  to  him,  but  demanded 
from  his  host  a  present  of  his  only  eye.    Eochy,  impelled  by  gener- 
osity, at  once  tore  it  from  the  socket  and  bestowed  it  upon  his 
avaricious   guest.    There  happened,  however,  at  the  time,  to  be 
a  holy  man  residing  with  the  outraged  Eochy;  and  he,  indignant 
at  such  ingratitude,  prayed  that  the  Druid's   eye  might  depart 
from   its   place,  and   together  with   his   own,   become   the    prop- 
erty of  Eochy.    The  prayer  was  heard — the  chieftain  became  in- 
stantly the  possessor  of  two  eyes,  and  the  Druid  left  the  castle 
for  ever  blind.     Hence  Eochy  and  his  posterity  obtained  the  name 
of  "  Suil-Levawn  " — Levawn's  eye. 

47  During  the  lifetime  of  Mr.  Hedges  Eyre,  it  was  impossible 
for  the  inn  at  Macroom  to  prosper;  for,  whenever  a  customer  ar- 
rived, if  his  manner  denoted  him  to  be  a  gentleman,  a  messenger 
was  soon  in  his  chamber,  with  "  compliments,  &c.,  and  a  room  was 
prepared   for  him  in   the   castle;"   particular  injunctions   being 
given  not  to  sup  before  his  removal.    Since  the  death  of  the  gen- 
erous   and  hospitable   gentleman,   the   inn   has    assumed   a   more 
stirring  aspect,  and  is  likely  to  have  employment  for  both  cook 
and  housemaid. 

*s  This  poem  was  written,  about  the  year  1826,  by  J.  J.  Cal- 
lanan,  a  native  of  Cork:  he  died  at  Lisbon  in  1829;  and  his  grave 
was  made,  not  by  the  "  calm  Avonbuee,"  in  accordance  with  his 
fervent  prayer,  but  by  the  banks  of  the  Tagus — far  away  from 
"  deep-valley'd  Desmond."  A  volume  of  his  poems  was  published 
soon  after  his  death;  and  among  them  are  many  of  merit  fully 
equal  to  the  fine  example  we  have  quoted. 

49 "Was  he  a  gentleman?"  we  asked  of  the  old  man  we  have 
referred  to.  "  Och  surely,"  he  replied,  "  for  he  couldn't  speak  to 
us  in  our  tongue;  and  his  hand  was  as  soft  as  a  lady's."  We  in- 
quired if  he  was  ever  afterwards  seen  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
encounter,  and  the  answer  was  "No;  but  an  uncle's  son  of  mine 
V— 20 


306  IRELAND 

would  be  on  his  oath  that  he  saw  him  not  many  a  long  day  back 
riding  in  a  grand  carriage  about  the  streets  of  London;  and  no- 
body," he  added,  "  that  once  seen  his  dark  eye  but  would  know  it 
again." 

so  We  asked  a  peasant  why  the  mountain  was  called  the  Priest's 
Leap,  and  received  this  answer.  "  Ye  see,  sir,  one  time  in  this 
country  there  was  five  pounds  for  a  wolf's  head,  and  five  pounds 
for  a  priest's  head;  and  a  dale  o'  money  was  made  out  o'  the 
both  of  'em.  Well  a  holy  priest  was  riding  over  the  hill,  and  he 
was  purshued  by  the  Tories  (they  called  thim  Tories  that  time, 
that's  the  blagards  that  did  be  hunting  the  priests);  and  just  as 
they  had  their  bloody  hands  upon  his  robe,  he  prayed  to  St. 
Fiachna  to  help  him  out  of  their  way;  and  the  ass  he  was  on 
gave  a  leap,  and  sprung  seven  miles  over  the  mountain  to  th'  other 
side  of  it, — and  there  are  the  marks  of  the  baste's  knees  in  the 
solid  rock  to  this  day.  And  the  people  won't  blast  the  rock, 
though  it  comes  right  in  the  way  of  the  road  to  Bantry."  There 
is,  beyond  question,  a  singular  rock  which  greatly  interferes  with 
the  road — containing  two  excavations  of  a  remarkable  character — • 
the  removal  of  which  rock  seems  to  be  necessary,  but  it  remains 
untouched. 

5a  To  account  for  the  absurd  manner  in  which  these  old  roads 
were  laid  down,  it  must  be  remembered  that,  generally,  they  were 
not  the  lines  deliberately  selected;  they  were  old  foot-ways,  grad- 
ually improved  into  some  approach  to  the  character  of  high-roads. 

52  In  the  neighbourhood  of  Kinsale,  there  are  many  remains  of 
antiquity  of  a  date  long  antecedent  to  the  visits  of  the  Spaniards; 
we  examined  a  singular  rath,  immediately  adj  oining  "  Rathmore  " 
(the  great  rath),  the  seat  of  John  Thomas  Cramer,  Esq.,  whose 
lady  is  sister  to  the  gallant  and  distinguished  officer  (Colonel 
Thomas)  who  represents  the  town.  We  have  seen  nowhere  so 
graceful  a  blending  of  art  and  nature  as  in  this  singularly  ro- 
mantic and  beautiful  demesne.  Wealth  and  taste  have  gone,  hand 
in  hand  for  its  improvement;  it  abounds  with  the  richest  and  finest 
shrubs  and  flowers;  and  magnificent  trees  fling  their  branches  over 
the  very  ocean.  In  the  mildest  climate  of  the  south  of  Europe,  it 
is  impossible  for  foliage  to  grow  in  more  luxuriant  beauty. 

63  The  singular  circumstances  connected  with  the  history  of  De 
Courcy  are  recorded  by  Hanmer  in  his  Chronicle  of  Ireland  (A.D. 
1571).  Sir  John  de  Courcy  had  held  the  highest  offices  in  the  coun- 
try, but  had  been  displaced  by  his  rival  Hugh  de  Lacy,  and  orders 
were  given  to  arrest  him.  Sir  John,  having  secret  intelligence  of 
the  design,  "kept  himselfe  aloofe,"  and  his  enemy  had  recourse 


NOTES  307 

to  stratagem  to  effect  a  seizure  of  his  person;  offering  a  large  re- 
ward for  his  apprehension.  "  Then,  privily,  he  dealt  with  four  of 
his  servants,"  who  informed  De  Lacy,  "  We  can  direct  you  to  a 
course  to  bring  your  purpose  to  effect;  upon  Good  Friday  yeerly, 
he  weares  no  armes,  but  is  wholly  given  up  to  divine  contempla- 
tion, and  commonly  walketh  all  solitary  round  about  the  church- 
yard of  Dune."  Thus  betrayed,  De  Courcy  was  attacked  by  a 
troop  of  horsemen.  "  He  ranne  to  a  wooden  crosse  that  stood  in 
the  churchyard,  took  the  pole  thereof,  and  laid  about  him  lustily" 
— so  lustily  that  he  slew  thirteen  of  De  Lacy's  men,  but  in  the 
end  was  taken,  "  clapt  in  the  Towre  of  London,"  and  condemned 
to  perpetual  imprisonment.  "  The  Judases  that  had  betrayed  their 
master  had  their  hire,"  but  on  condition  of  quitting  Ireland  never 
to  return  to  it,  upon  pain  of  death.  They  embarked  for  England 
with  a  singular  certificate,  under  Sir  Hugh's  hand,  of  the  good 
service  they  had  done,  which  contained  this  passage,  "  I  deem  them 
no  better  than  Judas  the  traitor;  wherefore,  let  no  subject  within 
the  king's  dominions  give  them  any  entertainment,  but  spit  in  their 
faces,  and  suffer  them  to  rogue  about  and  wander  as  Jews."  Stress 
of  weather  compelled  the  men  to  land  at  Cork;  where  they  were 
apprehended,  brought  before  Sir  Hugh,  "  and  forthwith  all  foure 
hanged  cheeke  by  jole."  Some  time  after,  a  quarrel  having  ensued 
between  John  king  of  England,  and  Philip  king  of  France,  it  was 
agreed  to  put  it  to  the  combat.  On  the  part  of  the  French  there 
was  a  man  "in  readinesse;"  but — (we  quote  the  old  chronicler) — 
"  King  lohn  upon  the  sudden  wist  not  what  to  do  for  a  Cham- 
pion to  encounter  with  him;  at  length,  one  attending  upon  his 
person,  enformed  him  that  there  was  one  Courcy  in  the  Towre  of 
London,  the  onely  man  in  his  dominions  (if  hee  would  under- 
take it)  to  answer  the  challenge.  King  lohn  ioyfull  of  this, 
sent  the  first,  yea  second,  and  third  time,  promising  large  re- 
wards, and  rich  gifts,  and  that  it  stood  him  upon  as  farre  as  the 
honour  of  his  Crowne  and  kingdome  did  reach,  to  make  good  the 
combat.  Courcy  answered  very  frowardly,  (the  which  was  taken 
in  good  part  in  regard  of  the  urgent  necessitie)  that  he  would 
never  fight  for  him,  neither  for  any  such  as  he  was,  that  he  was 
not  worthy  to  have  one  drop  of  bloud  spilt  for  him;  that  he  was 
not  able  to  requite  him  the  wrongs  he  had  done  him,  neither  to 
restore  him  the  heart's  ease  he  had  bereaved  him  of;  yet  notwith- 
standing all  the  premises,  he  was  willing,  and  would,  with  all  ex- 
pedition, be  ready  to  venture  his  life  in  defence  of  the  Crowne  and 
his  country.  Whereupon  it  was  agreed,  that  he  should  be  dyeted, 
ap  par  relied,  and  armed  to  his  content,  and  that  his  owne  sword 


308  IRELAND 

should  be  brought  him  out  of  Ireland.  The  day  came,  the  place 
appointed,  the  Liste  provided,  the  scaffolds  set  up,  the  Princes 
with  their  nobility  of  each  side,  with  thousands  in  expectation. 
Forth  comes  the  French  Champion,  gave  a  turne,  and  rests  him 
in  his  tent:  They  sent  for  Courcy,  who  all  this  while  was  trussing 
of  himselfe  about  with  strong  poynts,  and  answered  the  messen- 
gers, if  any  of  their  company  were  to  goe  to  such  a  banquet,  I 
thinke  he  would  make  no  great  haste.  Forth  he  comes,  gave  a 
turne,  and  went  into  his  tent.  When  the  trumpets  sounded  to  bat- 
taile,  forth  come  the  combatants,  and  viewed  each  other.  Courcy 
beheld  him  with  a  wonderfull  sterne  countenance,  and  passed  by. 
The  French  man  not  liking  his  grimme  look,  the  strong  proportion 
and  feature  of  his  person,  stalked  still  along,  and  when  the 
Trumpets  sounded  the  last  charge,  Courcy  drew  out  his  sword, 
and  the  French  man  ranne  away,  and  conveyed  him  to  Spaine. 
Whereupon  they  sounded  victory,  the  people  clapt  their  hands, 
and  cast  up  their  cappes;  King  Philip  desired  King  lohn  that 
Courcy  might  be  called  before  them,  to  shew  some  part  of  his 
strength  and  manhood,  by  a  blow  upon  a  Helmet;  it  was  agreed, 
a  stake  was  set  in  the  ground,  and  a  shirt  of  maile,  and  a  Helmet 
thereon;  Courcy  drew  his  sword,  looked  wonderfull  sternly  upon 
the  Princes,  cleft  the  helmet,  the  shirt  of  maile,  and  the  stake  so 
farre  in,  that  none  could  pull  it  out  but  himselfe.  Then  the  Princes 
demanded  of  him,  what  hee  meant  to  looke  so  sowrely  upon  them; 
his  answer  was,  if  hee  had  missed  his  blow  upon  the  blocke,  he 
would  have  cut  off  both  the  Kings  heads.  All  that  hee  said  was 
taken  in  good  part;  King  lohn  discharged  him  out  of  all  his  trou- 
bles, gave  him  great  gifts,  and  restored  him  to  his  former  posses- 
sions in  Ireland." 

The  grant  of  the  "privilege"  does  not  rest  upon  the  same  au- 
thority, although  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  its  existence.  The  King 
(John)  it  is  said,  "  besides  restoring  to  the  Earl  his  property,  bade 
him  ask  for  anything  else  in  his  gift  he  had  a  mind  to,  and  he 
should  have  it;  upon  which,  he  answered  he  had  titles  and  estates 
enough,  but  desired  that  he  and  his  successors,  heirs  male,  might 
have  the  privilege  (after  their  first  obeySance)  to  be  covered  in 
the  royal  presence  of  him  and  his  successors,  kings  of  England, 
which  the  king  granted."  His  descendants  have  repeatedly  upheld 
their  claim  to  the  ancient  grant,  and  the  late  Lord  Kinsale  kept 
his  hat  on  before  George  IV.  during  his  visit  to  Ireland;  but 
merely  for  a  few  moments,  in  order  to  establish  his  right.  The 
present  lord  is  an  absentee,  and,  we  believe,  has  never  seen  the 
town  from  which  he  derives  his  title  and  his  income.  The  prop- 


NOTES  309 

erty  is  very  limited.  There  is  a  tradition  that  when  King  John 
granted  the  privilege,  he  agreed  to  give  his  champion  as  much 
Irish  land  as  he  could  ride  round  on  a  given  day,  and  that  the 
existing  owners  of  the  intended  transfer  made  him  intoxicated;  so 
that  he  was  able  to  ride  over  but  a  small  district. 

54  One  of  the  outer  forts  of  Charles-Fort  is  called  "  the  Devil's 
Battery."  The  legend  attached  to  it  is  that  the  arch-enemy  was 
wont  to  take  his  rounds  upon  the  ramparts,  carrying  in  his  hand 
a  cannon-ball,  and  terrifying  the  sentinels  night  after  night.  The 
cause  of  this  appearance  is  said  to  have  originated  in  a  tragic 
event  that  once  occurred  there.  The  only  son  of  the  governor  pre- 
vailed upon  the  sentinel  on  duty  to  convey  a  message  from  him 
into  the  town;  taking  his  firelock  and  place  during  his  absence. 
The  young  man  fell  asleep  on  his  post,  and  the  governor,  visiting 
the  stations,  and  finding,  as  he  supposed,  the  sentinel  betraying  his 
trust,  shot  him  dead,  and  to  his  horror,  found  he  had  slain  his 
child.  So  great  was  his  despair  that  he  leaped  from  the  ramparts 
into  the  sea  and  perished.  From  that  fatal  night  his  satanic 
majesty  was  a  constant  visitor  at  the  fort;  and  a  cannon  is  shown 
there  to  this  day  on  which  he  left  the  mark  of  his  thumb.  Several 
other  "  frightful "  stories  of  demons,  ghosts,  and  hobgoblins,  are 
told  of  the  neighbourhood. 

ss  There  is  a  statement  generally  credited,  but  which,  we  believe, 
rests  on  no  good  authority  (for  we  have  vainly  searched  for  and 
inquired  concerning  the  alleged  fact)  that  the  Corporation  had 
formerly  carved  upon  the  town-gate,  the  illiberal  and  insulting 
couplet — 

"  Enter  here,  Jew,  Turk,  or  Atheist, 
Anybody  but  a  Papist;" 

under  which,  it  is  said,  upon  authority  equally  apocryphal,  an 
angry  wit  wrote  the  following — 

"  Whoever  wrote  this,  wrote  it  well — 
The  same  is  carved  on  the  gate  of  H ." 

It  is  more  than  probable  that  the  author  of  the  latter  was  also 
the  author  of  the  former  couplet;  and  that  neither  were  ever  seen 
upon  the  gates  of  Bandon. 

se  We  once  addressed  ourselves  to  a  landlord  and  tendered  him 
the  amount  of  his  bill;  he  turned  away  somewhat  haughtily,  say- 
ing he  was  not  the  waiter,  and  called  "  Paddy "  to  receive  our 
money.  On  other  occasions  we  were  compelled,  reluctantly,  to 
conclude  that  the  master  construed  an  order  into  an  insult.  We 


310  IRELAND 

must  except  from  this  observation  the  landlord  at  Bantry,  who 
himself  accompanied  us  to  the  neighbouring  points  of  interest,  and 
gathered  together  all  the  old  story-tellers  in  his  vicinity  who  he 
thought  might  afford  us  information.  The  host  at  Killarney  too 
was  attentive,  agreeable,  and  useful.  The  waiters  were  invariably 
the  very  opposite  of  this  character; — but  they  are  far  too  original 
and  amusing  a  class  to  be  dismissed  in  a  paragraph. 

57  We  were  enabled  to  carry  on  our  memories  a   few  of  the 
words;  and  they,  subsequently,  led  to  our  procuring  a  copy  of  the 
song.    The  following  is  a  literal  translation  of  some  of  the  first 
lines,  which  give  a  pretty  description  of  rural  objects  and  sounds:— 

**  I  went  forth  at  early  mom,  the  sun  of  summer  was  shining, 
I  heard  the  vnnding  *  of  a  shout — and  the  sweet  music  of  birds ; 
The  badger  and  the  hare  were  abroad;  and  the  woodcock  with 

the  long  bill; 
I  heard  the  son  of  the  rock  (».  6.  echo)  resounding  the  noise  of 

guns. 

The  red  fox  was  on  the  rock;  the  thousand  shouts  of  hunters  arose. 
The  woman  was  at  home  in  sadness,  lamenting  her  geese; 
Now  the  woods  are  falling, — let  us  haste  o'er  the  sea, 
John  O'Dwyer  of  the  valley, — you  are  without  pastime." 
*  "  In  many  a  winding  bout." — MILTON'S  ALLEGRO. 

58  A  tower  near  Castle  Townsend  is  pointed  out  as  the  place  in 
which  the  Dean  composed  this  poem.    It  is  now  a  complete  ruin, 
being  the  mere  shell  of  a  turret  overgrown  with  ivy,  but  command- 
ing a  beautiful  prospect  of  the  harbour  and  over  the  sea. 

69  It  is  also  a  singular  fact,  but  one  capable  of  easy  proof,  that 
the  Irish,  although  the  best  soldiers  in  the  world,  make  the  worst 
sailors.  A  friend  of  ours  had  occasion,  not  long  ago,  to  institute 
very  minute  inquiries  on  the  subject,  and  he  was  astonished  to  find 
how  few  "  able  seamen,"  natives  of  Ireland,  were  registered  on  the 
books  of  the  Admiralty. 

eo  It  is  the  curse  of  Ireland  that  her  "  Advocates  "  are  always 
striving  after  "  vain  things ; "  turning  a  deaf  ear  to  real  and  prac- 
ticable improvements;  and  preferring  the  advocacy  of  a  small 
benefit  that  shall  produce  agitation,  to  a  large  good  in  which  all 
parties  may  unite.  At  the  present  moment,  the  Irish  papers  are 
full  of  idle  treatises  showing  that  (we  quote  from  one  of  them, 
"the  Vindicator"  of  Belfast)  "the  immense  sum  of  £254,000  is 
sent  annually  by  Ireland  for  second-hand  clothes  in  England; 
which,"  adds  the  writer,  "would,  if  we  had  native  manufactories, 


NOTES  311 

be  spent  at  home."  With  the  question  whether  a  repeal  of  the 
Union  would  build  these  manufactories,  we  do  not  now  meddle; 
but  if  the  labours  of  such  writers  were  devoted  to  prove  the 
ability  of  the  Irish  to  catch  their  own  fish,  to  eat  what  they  re- 
quired, and  sell  the  surplus,  they  would  be  much  better  employed, 
and  might  lead  to  results  that  would  make  the  cost  of  these  "  old 
clothes "  a  very  trifling  consideration.  We  hope  to  see  manu- 
factories in  Ireland  flourish  ere  long  (that  they  may  do  so  has 
been  proved  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Waterford,  where  a  cotton 
manufactory  has  been  for  some  years  established  where  fortunes 
have  been  made,  and  where  1,600  mechanics  of  both  sexes  are  em- 
ployed during  the  whole  year) ;  but  the  fisheries  require  far  less 
capital,  and  afford  far  greater  certainty  of  profit. 

si  We  have  seen  one,  long  disused,  which  contained  six  or  seven 
natural  chambers,  and  covered  an  area  of,  perhaps,  a  quarter  of 
a  mile,  the  entrance  to  which  seemed  hardly  wide  enough  to  admit 
a  shepherd's  dog;  and  close  to  the  Old  Head  of  Kinsale,  a  crevice 
in  a  high  rock,  leads,  it  is  said,  to  an  excavation  large  enough  to 
hold  a  regiment;  popular  tradition  states,  indeed,  that  it  contains 
a  passage  into  the  town — a  distance  of  several  miles. 

62  Unhappily,  an  officer  thrust  his  sword  through  one  of  these 
floating  sods  (they  are  no  more),  and  the  country  people  tell  you 
"it  limped  in  the  water  ever  after." 

63  We  extract  the  following  passage  from  Croker's  "  Researches 
in  the  South  of  Ireland:"— 

"  About  the  year  1804,  Colonel  Hall,  who  had  been  some  time 
quartered  at  Killarney,  conceiving  a  favourable  opinion  of  Ross 
Mine,  induced  one  or  two  gentlemen  in  the  vicinity  to  join  in  re- 
opening it.  Having  succeeded  in  clearing  out  the  water  and  rub- 
bish, the  little  company  were  encouraged  by  the  flattering  ap- 
pearances to  proceed  to  work  it,  which  they  did  on  rather  an 
extensive  scale,  notwithstanding  the  unfavourable  circumstances  of 
its  situation,  nearly  close  to  the  lake,  the  ground  not  rising  much 
above,  and  dipping  towards  it  at  an  angle  about  thirty  degrees 
from  the  horizon;  so  that  in  a  short  time  the  workmen  had  ex- 
cavated completely  under  the  lake,  with  every  fear  of  its  waters 
breaking  in  on  them.  The  richness  and  abundance  of  the  ore 
was,  however,  a  sufficient  inducement  to  counteract  this  danger  and 
inconvenience,  as,  during  the  four  years  that  Ross  Mine  was 
worked,  nearly  £80,000  worth  of  copper  was  disposed  of  at  Swan- 
sea, some  cargoes  producing  £40  per  ton.  But  this  very  richness 
was  the  ultimate  cause  of  its  destruction,  as  several  small  veins 
of  pure  oxide  of  copper  split  off  from  the  main  lode,  and  ran 


312  IRELAND 

towards  the  surface.  The  ore  of  these  veins  was  much  more  val- 
uable than  the  other,  consequently  the  miners  (who  were  paid  by 
quality  as  well  as  quantity)  pursued  the  smaller  veins  so  near 
the  surface,  that  the  water  broke  through  into  the  mine  in  such  an 
overwhelming  degree,  that  an  engine  of  thirty-horse  power  could 
make  no  sensible  impression  on  the  inundation;  and  thus  a  forcible 
stop  was  put  to  all  further  proceedings." 

o4  The  company  expended  £12,000,  in  addition  to  the  produce, 
in  proving  the  mine  of  Kippagh;  and  sunk  the  principal  shaft  120 
fathoms,  extending  on  the  several  levels  nearly  200  fathoms;  and 
the  mine  having  been  altogether  unproductive  in  depth,  where  it 
was  expected  the  junction  of  two  parallel  lodes  would  have  yielded 
return,  the  lease  was  surrendered  to  Lord  Audley,  who  soon  after- 
wards succeeded  in  forming,  in  London,  the  notorious  "  West  Cork 
Mining  Company"  for  working  the  mine. 

«s  The  Rev.  Mr.  Townsend,  in  his  Survey  of  the  County  of  Cork, 
states  that  the  ashes  yielded  from  ten  to  twelve  pounds  per  ton. 

ee  This  has,  indeed,  been  already  done,  and  to  a  large  extent. 
The  discovery  of  the  productive  and  profitable  mine  of  Allihies, 
at  Berehaven,  in  the  county  of  Cork,  was  the  result  of  a  sugges- 
tion of  Colonel  Hall's,  who,  after  exploring  the  land  in  company 
with  its  proprietor,  Mr.  Puxley,  pointed  out  a  particular  spot  es- 
pecially favourable  for  experiment.  It  was  tried,  and  from  it 
has  resulted  one  of  the  most  successful  mines  of  the  kingdom. 

67  We  sheltered,  until  a  heavy  shower  by  which  we  were  over- 
taken had  in  some  degree  subsided,  beneath  a  rock;  and  a  story 
told  us  by  a  lady,  whose  veracity  was  never  questioned,  was  re- 
called to  our  remembrance  by  the  immediate  locale  in  which  we 
stood.  We  will  endeavour  to  relate  it  in  her  own  words: — 

"When  I  was  a  little  girl,"  she  said,  "my  uncle  was  a  magis- 
trate of  the  county  of  Cork,  an  adtive  but  kind-hearted  man,  ren- 
dered vigilant  by  the  period  in  which  his  energies  were  called  into 
action  by  the  Irish  '  troubles.'  The  attempt  of  the  French  to  land 
in  Bantry  Bay,  made  the  people  suspicious  of  every  ship  that  rode 
upon  its  waters;  they  forgot  in  their  terror  that  France  would  not 
be  likely  to  risk  another  storm  in  the  same  quarter.  Now  my 
uncle  was  what  is  called  a  very  watchful  man,  always  on  the  look- 
out for  ships;  and  it  was  said,  that  if  a  nautilus  had  raised  its 
tiny  sail  in  Bantry  Bay,  my  uncle  would  have  boarded  her — if  he 
could. 

"  It  is  no  wonder,  then,  that  riding  homewards  from  the  town  of 
Bantry  one  fine  evening  about  six  o'clock,  before  sunset  (for  it 
was  summer  time),  he  saw  an  exceedingly  fine  vessel,  but  of 


NOTES  313 

foreign  build,  at  anchor,  nearer  the  shore  than  he,  as  a  magis- 
trate, quite  liked.    It  was  so  calm  an  evening,  that  there  was  no 
sound  from  the  sea,  save  the  whisper  of  the  ripple  that  wandered 
along  the  shore — the  stillness  was  oppressive  to  one  who  loved  the 
music  of  hound  and  horn  better  than  meditation — but  for  all  that, 
he  did  meditate  upon  the  ship,  and  drew  up  his  horse  to  observe 
her  at  leisure;  it  was  so  deadly  calm,  that  the  rays  of  the  sun 
rested  almost  without  sparkling  upon  the  huge  mirror  of  the  bay 
that  slept  as  calmly  as  a  child  upon  its  mother's  bosom.    While 
my  uncle  paused,  he  drew  forth  his  little  telescope  and  applied  it 
carefully  to  his  eye,  and  was  more  convinced  than  ever  that  the 
ship  was  a  foreigner,  and  carried  (as  all  ships  did  in  those  days) 
a  sufficient  quantity  of  guns  for  her  own  preservation.     He  had 
just  taken  down  his  glass,  determining  to  ride  back  to  the  town, 
put  the  military  on  the  alert,  and  demand  to  see  her  papers  in 
the  morning,  when,  immediately  under  the  stern  of  the  vessel,  he 
saw  a  tall  thin  figure  rise  perpendicularly  out  of  the  water.     His 
first  impression  was,  that  some  one  was  indulging  in  an  evening 
bath;  but  a  feeling  of  extreme  awe  crept  over  him  as  he  observed 
that  the  form  stood  upon  the  sea.    My  uncle  was  anything  but 
superstitious,  yet  he  found  it  impossible  to  shake  off  his  terror; 
the  mysterious  being  was  there,  shrouded,  as  if  in  the  garb  of  the 
grave,  standing  with  outstretched  arms  in  the  same  spot.    My 
uncle  noted  that  it  clasped  its  hands  more  than  once,  and  then 
stretched  them  forward  again  towards  the  ship.     He  observed  its 
movements  with   breathless   attention,   and   after   a  lapse  of,   as 
nearly  as  he  could  calculate,  three  or  four  minutes,  it  slowly  de- 
scended into  the  waters.     That  night  my  uncle  never  slept — and 
the  next  morning  he  rose  before  the  sun,  saddled  his  own  horse, 
rode  into  Bantry,  and  accompanied  by  what  he  considered  a  suf- 
ficient   force — in   his   capacity   as   magistrate — boarded   the   ship, 
which  was  anchored  in  the  same  spot,  and  demanded  to  see  her 
papers.    There  was  neither  mystery  nor  trepidation  in  the  skip- 
per's manner,  which  was  blunt  and  sailor-like;   and  the  papers 
seemed  '  all  right.'    My  uncle  was  perplexed ! — he  did  not  know 
what  to  say  or  do — and  at  last,  stimulated  by  an  uncontrollable 
impulse,  he  mentioned  what  he  had  witnessed  the  previous  evening. 
In  an  instant  the  rough  sailor's  manner  changed;  he  trembled 
violently,  and  sank  upon  a  chair.    My  uncle's  keen  grey  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  him — he  covered  his  face  with  his  hands — and,  after  a 
brief  pause,  exclaimed  '  All  is  in  vain ;  the  vengeance  of  God  is 
everywhere.    Sir,   that   has   followed   me   from   sea  to   sea,   from 
harbour  to  harbour,  in  storm  and  calm,  everywhere.'    This  extraor- 


314  IRELAND 

dinary  confession,  made  while  the  wretched  man  trembled  with 
agony,  and  huge  drops  stood  upon  his  brow,  was  followed  by  an 
appalling  confession  of  murder  upon  the  high  seas,  mingled  with 
superstitious  forebodings  as  to  his  having  been  doomed  from  his 
birth  to  destruction;  and  that,  finding  such  was  his  doom,  he  had 
led  on  a  mutiny  and  destroyed  his  captain;  whose  'wraith'  had 
attracted  my  uncle's  attention  on  the  previous  evening.  Such 
was  his  wild  and  incoherent  tale;  and  upon  that  confession,  borne 
out  by  the  evidence  of  some  of  the  crew,  he,  and  we  believe  one 
or  two  of  his  associates,  were  executed  in  Cork."  Such  was  our 
friend's  story — and  she  added,  that  it  made  her  uncle's  spirit  sad 
to  speak  of  the  circumstance,  and  that  at  last  it  was  never  men- 
tioned before  him. 

es  There  is  little  doubt,  however,  that  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald 
and  Mr.  Arthur  O'Connor  had  previously  intrigued  with  the 
French  government  for  the  invasion  of  their  country. 

«» Tone  afterwards  made  another  attempt  to  introduce  the 
French  into  Ireland — in  1798.  He  was  captured  in  the  Hoche,  off 
Donegal;  transmitted  to  Dublin,  tried  by  court-martial,  and  sen- 
tenced to  death.  He  appeared  at  his  trial  in  French  uniform;  and 
on  hearing  the  sentence,  requested  to  be  shot  as  a  soldier  holding 
a  commission  in  the  French  service,  under  the  name  of  Smith;  the 
request  was,  of  course,  refused.  On  the  evening  previous  to  the 
day  fixed  for  his  execution,  he  wounded  himself  in  the  throat  so 
desperately,  that  he  could  not  be  moved  without  the  probability 
of  dying  before  he  reached  the  scaffold;  after  lingering  in  this 
state  for  about  a  week,  he  died  in  prison,  on  the  19th  November, 
1798. 

70  This  force  of  14,000  (or  more  correctly  13,975)  men,  is  mag- 
nified by  the  London  Gazette  of  the  3rd  of  January,  1797,  into 
20,000;  and  by  the  Annual  Register  into  25,000  men.    Mr.  Alison, 
in  the  4th  vol.  of  his  "  History  of  Europe  from  the  commencement 
of  the  French  Revolution,"  has  followed  the  authority  of  the  An- 
nual Register,  and  states  that  the  fleet  "conveyed  in  all  25,000 
land  forces." 

71  General  Hoche  and  Admiral  de  Galles,  the  naval  and  military 
commanders  of  the  expedition,  were  on  board  one  of  the  frigates 
— the  Fraternitd — which  parted  company  from  the  fleet  soon  after 
it  left  the  harbour  of  Brest,  and  never  joined  the  main  body. 
The  failure  of  the  expedition  is  evidently  as  much  to  be  attributed 
to  the  absence  of  the  leaders,  and  consequent  want  of  orders,  as 
to  the  state  of  the  weather. 

72  The  Irish  government  appears  to  have  been  most  culpably 


NOTES  315 

negligent.  According  to  a  writer  of  the  period,  "  Hurry,  con- 
fusion, and  disorder,  marked  the  advance  of  the  army;  all  was 
terror,  doubt,  and  dismay;  troops  disaffected,  horses  wanting,  the 
munitions  of  war  badly  supplied,  and  even  the  ball  was  unfitted 
to  the  calibre  of  the  cannon,  furnished  by  a  defective  commis- 
sariat." This,  although  the  statement  of  a  partizan  of  France,  is 
perhaps  but  little  exaggerated.  We  can  support  it  by  authority 
of  an  opposite  character.  Colonel  Hall,  whose  regiment  was  then 
quartered  at  Tralee  and  Killarney,  received  orders  to  march  to 
Bantry,  from  the  general  commanding  the  district,  and  "oppose 
the  landing  of  the  French."  If  we  recollect  rightly,  the  force 
under  Colonel  Hall's  command  (for  he  was  the  senior  field  officer), 
including  as  many  of  his  own  regiment  as  he  could  instantly  col- 
lect, when  he  arrived  at  "the  bay"  amounted  to  about  700  men; 
a  force  which  the  French,  if  they  had  landed,  would  instantly  have 
annihilated;  but  which  might  have  been  very  advantageously  em- 
ployed in  breaking  up  the  roads,  and  harassing  the  march  of  the 
invaders  to  Cork;  procuring  time  for  the  government  to  make 
preparations  to  meet  them.  Colonel  Hall's  regiment  then  consisted 
of  raw  recruits,  nine-tenths  of  whom  had  never  seen  a  shot  fired, 
and  who  would  have  cut  but  a  poor  figure  if  opposed  to  the  elite 
of  the  French  army.  His  intention,  therefore  (of  which  we  have 
often  heard  him  speak  as  a  "dismal  necessity"),  was  to  have 
fired  a  volley  in  obedience  to  orders,  and  then  to  have  saved  the 
lives  of  his  men,  by  grounding  arms  and  surrendering  as  prisoners 
of  war. 

73  The  instructions  were,  in  case  of  such  a  contingency,  to  cruise 
four  days  off  the  Mizen  Head,  and  then  to  proceed  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Shannon;  to  remain  there  three  days,  and  then,  if  not  re- 
joined, to  return  to  Brest. 

7*  The  French  had  marvellously  miscalculated  as  to  the  co-opera- 
tion they  anticipated  from  the  Irish  people,  who  were,  in  1796, 
totally  unprepared  to  receive  them  as  friends,  or  to  adopt  the  re- 
publican principles  and  government  they  designed  to  disseminate 
and  establish.  In  his  memorials  to  the  Directory,  Tone  had  repre- 
sented the  Irish  as  "  fixing  their  eyes  most  earnestly  on  France," 
as  "eager  to  fly  to  the  standard  of  the  republic;"  the  catholics 
as  "ready  to  join  it  to  a  man,"  and  that  "it  would  be  just  as 
easy,  in  a  month,  to  have  an  army  in  Ireland  of  200,000  men  as 
10,000."  Whether  he  had  wilfully  misstated  the  fact,  or  whether 
his  sanguine  temperament  had  led  him  to  believe  that  his  country- 
men would  join  the  French  en  masse,  it  is  difficult  to  say.  But  it 
is  certain  that  the  invaders  would  have  been  received  by  the  Irish 


316  IRELAND 

generally,  not  as  friends,  but  as  enemies.  Along  the  coast,  the 
south  and  west,  most  distinctly  threatened,  the  peasants  were  actu- 
ally in  arms — such  arms  as  they  could  command — to  repel  them. 
We  have  frequently  heard  Colonel  Hall  state  that,  on  his  march 
to  Bantry,  his  men  were  cheered  by  the  peasantry,  supplied  with 
food  and  drink  by  them,  and  received  unequivocal  demonstrations 
of  their  resolves  to  fight  upon  their  cabin  thresholds  against  the 
entrance  of  a  Frenchman.  In  the  London  Gazette  of  the  7th  of 
January,  1797,  this  feeling  is  particularly  adverted  to.  "The  ac- 
counts of  the  disposition  of  the  country  where  the  troops  are  as- 
sembled, are  as  favourable  as  possible,  and  the  greatest  loyalty 
has  manifested  itself  throughout  the  kingdom;  in  the  south  and 
west,  when  the  troops  have  been  in  motion,  they  have  been  met  by 
the  country  people  of  all  descriptions  with  provisions  and  all  sorts 
of  accommodations  to  facilitate  their  march;  and  every  demon- 
stration has  been  given  of  the  zeal  and  ardour  to  oppose  the 
enemy  in  every  place  where  it  could  be  supposed  a  descent  might 
be  attempted."  The  Gazette  of  the  17th  contains  a  letter  from 
the  Lord  Lieutenant  (Earl  Camden),  in  which,  after  noticing  the 
good  disposition  evinced  by  the  troops,  his  Excellency  states,  "the 
roads,  which  in  parts  were  rendered  impassable  by  the  snow,  were 
cleared  by  the  peasantry.  The  poor  people  often  shared  their 
potatoes  with  the  soldiers.  *  *  *  In  short,  had  the  enemy 
landed,  their  hope  of  assistance  from  the  inhabitants  would  have 
been  totally  disappointed."  Every  account  published  at  the  time 
bears  out  this  statement.  Our  own  experience  of  the  Irish  justi- 
fies us  in  asserting  that,  even  now,  they  have  neither  sympathy 
with,  nor  affection  for,  the  French;  and  that  under  no  circum- 
stances could  the  majority  of  the  people  be  brought  to  consider 
them  as  desirable  allies. 

75  Of  the  ships,  the  Nestor,  74,  was  driven  on  shore;  the  Se'dui- 
sant  was  wrecked  on  the  Grand  Stevent,  going  out  of  Brest;  the 
Impatiente  was  wrecked  on  the  Mizen  Head;  the  whole  crew,  ex- 
cept seven,  perished;  the  Surveillante  was  captured  in  Bantry  Bay, 
and  scuttled,  having  been  abandoned  by  her  crew;  the  Resolve 
was  dismasted  by  being  run  foul  of  by  the  Indomptable,  and  after- 
wards towed  into  Brest;  the  Tartare  was  captured,  after  a  short 
action,  by  the  Polyphemus,  and  brought  into  Cork  harbour.  (The 
Tartare  had  625  men  on  board,  including  troops,  and  had  16  killed 
and  35  wounded  in  the  action;  the  Polyphemus  lost  only  one 
marine.)  The  Scaevola,  gun-boat,  foundered  off  the  Irish  coast. 
The  Ville  d'Orient  transport  was  captured  by  the  Unicorn,  and 
carried  into  Kinsale,  with  400  hussars  on  board  completely 


NOTES  317 

equipped.  The  Justine  transport  probably  foundered  at  sea,  and 
all  on  board  perished.  It  is  singular  that  so  many  of  the  ships 
contrived  to  escape  the  British  fleet,  which  had  kept  incessant 
watch  for  them.  The  question  was  put  in  a  song,  very  popular  at 
the  period: — 

"  O,  where  was  Hood,  and  where  was  Howe, 

And  where  Cornwallis  then; 
Where  Colpoys,  Bridport,  or  Pellew, 
And  all  their  gallant  men?" 

And  it  was  not  long  afterwards  asked  in  both  Houses  of  Parlia- 
ment. The  reply  of  Mr.  Dundas  was  a  satisfactory  vindication 
of  the  national  character.  He  stated  that  Sir  Edward  Pellew's 
squadron  was  employed  in  cruising  off  Brest,  to  watch  the  motions 
of  the  enemy;  but  the  hazy  state  of  the  weather  was  such,  that 
fog  guns  were  obliged  to  be  continually  fired,  and  the  French 
fleet  succeeded  in  getting  out,  notwithstanding  all  the  efforts  of 
that  active  and  gallant  officer  to  prevent  them;  that  Admiral  Col- 
poys' squadron,  which  was  also  hovering  off  Brest,  came  into 
harbour  for  supplies;  and  that  Lord  Bridport's  squadron,  which 
•was  ordered,  on  the  21st  of  December,  off  Cape  Clear,  sailed  on 
the  25th,  but  the  denseness  of  the  fog  prevented  his  falling  in  with 
a  single  French  vessel. 

76  Vast  quantities  of  coral  sand  are  raised  in  all  parts  of  the 
bay:  it  is  highly  esteemed  as  a  manure;  and  produces,  it  is  said, 
between  four  and  five  thousand  pounds  annually  to  the  boatmen 
who  procure  it,  and  the  peasants  who  convey  it  to  distant  parts. 

"  Many  of  these  eagles'  nests  have  had  their  histories  for  cen- 
turies. There  is  one  in  particular  to  which  tradition  still  points, 
connecting  it  by  a  beautiful  and  touching  legend  with  the  family 
of  the  O'Sullivan.  At  the  time  when  this  once  powerful  race  had 
been  despoiled  of  their  territory,  by  the  "  Saxon  stranger,"  the 
chieftain  sought  and  found  shelter  in  this  remote  glen.  After 
lingering  here  for  some  months,  however,  he  proceeded  to  join 
his  friends  then  in  arms  in  Ulster,  and  left  his  wife  and  children 
under  the  guardianship  of  his  foster-brother,  Gorrane  Mac  Swiney. 
Gorrane  conveyed  his  precious  charge  to  the  foot  of  the  eagles' 
cliff;  and,  learning  they  were  eagerly  sought  after,  he  contrived 
a  hut  for  their  shelter,  so  cunningly  devised  as  to  seem  but  a 
mound  of  heather.  Here,  however,  they  soon  wanted  food,  and  the 
faithful  follower  saw  but  little  chance  of  preserving  them  from 
perishing  of  hunger.  While  bitterly  cogitating  over  their  gloomy 


318  IRELAND 

prospects,  he  saw  the  eagle  sailing  to  its 'eyrie  with  a  leveret  in 
its  talons:  a  sudden  thought  struck  him;  he  rapidly  formed  a  rope 
of  the  twisted  fibres  of  the  bog-fir,  called  his  young  son,  and  to- 
gether they  ascended  the  mountain  over-night.  There  they  quietly 
remained  until  they  had  watched  the  eagles  issue  forth,  return  with 
their  prey,  and  depart  in  quest  of  more.  Gorrane  then  commenced 
operations:  he  carefully  let  the  boy  down  the  cliff,  with  directions 
to  tie  pieces  of  string  round  the  throats  of  the  eaglets,  not  so 
tight  as  to  do  them  injury,  but  sufficiently  close  to  prevent  their 
devouring  the  food  as  it  arrived.  The  plan  was  successful.  The 
offal  was  left  to  sustain  the  young  birds;  but  ample  store  was 
thus  obtained  to  supply  the  family  of  the  O'Sullivan  until  better 
days. 

78  Of  the  castle  of  Dunboy,  the  ancient  stronghold  of  the  O'Sul- 
livans,  a  few  walls  only  remain,  barely  sufficient  to  point  out  its 
locality.  During  the  wars  of  Elizabeth,  it  was  occupied  by  the 
Spaniards,  who  subsequently  resigned  it  to  Philip  O'Sullivan.  In 
1601,  Sir  George  Carew  marched  at  the  head  of  a  small  army 
to  besiege  it  The  garrison  was  commanded  by  a  gallant  soldier, 
Mac  Geoghegan;  with  whom  co-operated  Tyrrell,  the  best  guerilla 
of  his  time.  It  consisted  of  less  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  fighting 
men — but  they  were  the  stoutest  and  bravest  of  all  the  Irish 
forces.  For  many  days  they  kept  their  numerous  and  powerful 
enemies  at  bay;  at  length,  a  tower  of  the  castle  having  been 
beaten  down,  they  offered  to  surrender  upon  quarter.  The  mes- 
senger was  hanged  within  their  sight,  and  the  breach  was  ordered 
to  be  entered.  The  Irish  fought  lustily  for  many  hours,  until  the 
remnant  were  forced  to  take  shelter  in  the  cellars,  the  only  en- 
trance into  which  was  a  narrow  stone  staircase,  which  they  con- 
tinued to  defend ;  offering,  however,  to  surrender  "  if  they  might 
have  their  lives,"  which,  in  accordance  with  the  barbarous  policy 
of  the  age,  were  refused.  They  collected  a  quantity  of  powder 
into  one  of  the  vaults,  and  their  captain  sate  down  beside  it,  with 
a  lighted  match — a  resolution  having  been  formed  to  blow  up  the 
castle  and  all  in  it,  unless  quarter  was  granted.  Ultimately,  how- 
ever, the  English  troops  forced  a  passage,  and  Mac  Geoghegan, 
who  was  lying  there  mortally  wounded,  raised  himself,  and  snatch- 
ing up  the  match  staggered  with  it  to  the  powder  barrel,  when 
Captain  Power  seized  him,  and  held  him  in  his  arms  until  he  was 
killed.  The  whole  of  the  garrison  were  butchered — either  slain, 
buried  in  the  ruins,  or  executed.  No  single  man  of  the  gallant 
defenders  of  the  castle  escaped;  and  while  the  memory  of  Dunboy 
endures,  a  dark  blot  will  remain  upon  the  name  of  one  of  the 


NOTES  319 

bravest,  wisest,  and  most  courteous  of  all  the  officers  of  Queen 
Elizabeth.  The  O'Sullivan  remained  among  his  native  fastnesses 
until  the  cruel  policy  of  the  conquerors  so  wasted  the  district, 
that  his  followers  gradually  perished  of  famine,  and  the  few  that 
remained  were  compelled  to  accompany  their  lord  to  a  far  off 
distance  in  search  of  food.  It  is  of  this  period,  and  to  this  county 
more  especially,  that  Spenser  refers  when  he  states  "  the  people  of 
Munster  were  brought  to  such  wretchedness,  that  even  a  heart  of 
stone  would  have  rued  to  see  the  same;  for  out  of  every  corner  of 
the  woods  and  glynnes,  they  came  creeping  forth  on  their  hands 
and  knees,  for  their  legs  could  not  bear  them;  they  looked  like 
anatomies  of  death;  they  spake  like  ghosts  crying  out  of  their 
graves;  they  did  eat  the  dead  carrion,  happy  were  they  when 
they  could  find  it;  yea,  and  one  another  some  time  after;  inso- 
much that  the  very  carcases  they  spared  not  to  scrape  out  of 
their  graves;  and  if  they  found  a  plot  of  water-cresses,  or  sham- 
rock, there  they  flocked  as  to  a  feast." 

79  The  complaint  that  Ireland  suffers  in  consequence  of  so  many 
persons  of  rank  and  wealth  expending  their  properties  abroad,  is 
by  no  means  a  new  one — it  has  existed  for  centuries:  it  was 
sought  to  procure  a  remedy  for  the  evil  by  legislative  enactments 
so  far  back  as  the  reign  of  Richard  II.  Enactments  "made  by 
our  ancestors  to  prevent  our  gentlemen  of  estate  and  office  from 
living  abroad."  We  have  before  us  a  quaint  volume,  dated  1729, 
and  "printed  for  R.  Gunne,  in  Capel  Street,  Dublin,"  the  writer 
of  which  deeply  deplores  "  that  the  evil  (of  absenteeism)  grows 
daily  upon  us,  and  has  already  thrown  the  nation  into  a  wasteful 
consumption  of  all  its  substance."  His  book  is  entitled  "A  list 
of  lords,  gentlemen,  and  others  who,  having  estates,  employments, 
and  pensions  in  Ireland,  spend  the  same  abroad;  together  with  an 
estimate  of  the  yearly  value  of  the  same,  as  taken  in  the  months 
of  May,  June,  and  July,  1729."  The  list  he  divides  into  three 
classes :  first,  "  those  who  live  constantly  abroad,  and  are  seldom 
or  never  seen  in  Ireland;"  second,  "those  who  live  generally 
abroad,  and  visit  Ireland  now  and  then,  for  a  month  or  two;" 
and  third,  "  those  who  are  occasionally  absent — their  numbers  be- 
ing commonly  the  same,  for  if  some  come  home,  others  go  abroad 
and  supply  their  places."  The  names  of  the  three  classes  he  gives 
alphabetically,  stating  the  incomes  of  each;  and,  in  commenting 
upon  the  facts  he  adduces,  he  observes  "we  are  not  now  at  a 
loss  to  point  out  the  principal  source  of  all  our  misfortunes,  and 
the  chief  cause  of  all  our  distress;  it  appears  plainly,  from  the 
list  of  absentees,  and  the  estimate  of  the  quantity  of  specie  they 


320  IRELAND 

are  reasonably  supposed  to  draw  yearly  out  of  the  kingdom,  that 
no  other  country  labours  under  so  wasteful  a  drain  of  its  treasure 
as  Ireland  does  at  present,  by  an  annual  remittance  of  £600,000 
to  our  gentlemen  abroad,  without  the  least  consideration  or  value 
returned  for  the  same."  And  the  writer  further  adds,  "  'tis  mel- 
ancholy to  observe,  that  now  we  are  labouring  under  great  dis- 
advantages of  trade,  and  struggling  with  penury  and  want,  the 
humour  of  living  and  spending  abroad  still  increases  among  our 
men  of  quality  and  station." 

so  Several  owners  of  mountain  land — if  the  term  "  land  "  may 
be  applied  to  tracts  of  country  where  the  spade  can  seldom  sink 
an  inch — are  in  the  habit  of  letting,  for  a  long  term,  large  dis- 
tricts of  it  at  a  nominal  rent.  We  were  present  when  the  practice 
received  a  singular  illustration.  A  peasant  addressed  a  landlord 
with,  "  If  ye  plase,  yer  honour,  I  want  thirty  shillings'  worth  of 
mountain."  We  were  informed  that  the  quantity  allotted  to  him 
for  this  sum  was  thirty  acres,  for  a  period  of  thirty  years.  The 
labourer  sets  to  work  with  his  spade  and  his  "  four  bones ; "  picks 
out  every  morsel  of  soil  he  finds  enclosed  by  rocks;  clears  it  of 
stones;  gradually  conveys  manure  to  it;  and,  in  the  end,  plants  it 
with  potatoes.  Nothing  in  Irish  scenery  is  more  striking  than  such 
patches  of  cultivation  up  the  mountain  slopes.  But  an  Irishman, 
will  endure  any  privation  to  obtain  "  a  bit  of  land ; "  suffer  any 
misery  to  retain  it;  and,  indeed,  commit  any  crime  rather  than 
permit  it  to  be  taken  from  him.  If  our  readers  could  but  imagine 
the  extreme  eagerness  with  which  they  covet  its  possession,  and 
the  frightful  passions  that  are  aroused  when  deprived  of  it, 
either  justly  or  unjustly,  they  would  easily  understand  the  nature 
of  those  outrages  which  are  continually  occurring  in  Ireland,  to 
blacken  the  Irish  character.  We  shall  go  more  deeply  into  the 
matter  hereafter.  Several  of  the  mountains,  however,  have  been 
taken  possession  of  by  wanderers,  distinguished  as  "  squatters." 
Any  attempt  to  dispossess  them  would  be  dangerous  to  a  degree; 
they  usually  mark  the  boundaries  of  their  "  properties "  by  lines 
of  stones,  and  are  peculiarly  jealous  of  the  in-coming  of  a  new 
settler. 

si  The  use  of  the  term  "  Barony  " — a  term  with  which  English 
readers  are  not  familiar — reminds  us  of  the  necessity  for  briefly 
explaining  the  divisions  and  subdivisions  of  the  country.  Ireland 
is  divided  into  four  provinces.  These  are  the  remains  of  the  petty 
kingdoms  which  the  island  formerly  contained.  According  to  Sir 
James  Ware,  there  were  most  anciently  but  two,  viz. — Legh  Cuin 
the  northern,  and  Legh  Moa  the  southern;  and,  accordingly,  Bede 


NOTES  321 

divides  Ireland  into  north  and  south  Scotia.  The  island  was,  how- 
ever, very  early  partitioned  into  five  divisions.  And  Giraldus 
Cambrensis,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  II.,  divides  it  into  Connaught, 
Ulster,  Leinster,  North  and  South  Munster. — Topogr.  Hibern. 
Distinc.  1,  c.  6.  Other,  and  it  would  seem  more  correct,  authori- 
ties mention  Connaught,  Ulster,  Leinster,  Munster,  and  Meath. — 
See  Ware's  Antiq.  cap.  iii.  citing  a  MS.  of  the  time  of  Edw.  I. 
in  Archbishop  Usher's  library,  now  in  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  and 
the  registry  of  Duisk.  The  authorities  which  mention  these  di- 
visions, subdivide  them  into  "  Cantreds,"  which  seem  synonymous 
with  the  Saxon  hundreds,  still  known  in  England.  The  term 
cantred,  though  found  in  ancient  grants  even  after  the  coming 
of  the  English,  has,  however,  long  ceased  to  be  used  in  Ireland; 
as  Meath,  also,  has  long  ceased  to  be  regarded  as  a  province, 
East  and  West  Meath  being  now  counties  in  Leinster.  The  di- 
vision into  provinces  is  of  little  or  no  practical  utility  at  the 
present  day. 

The  provinces  are  subdivided  into  counties:  this  division  was  in- 
troduced by  the  English,  in  the  reign  of  King  John,  who  made 
twelve  counties  in  Leinster  and  Munster,  viz. — Dublin,  Meath, 
Uriel,  Kildare,  Catherlogh,  Kilkenny,  Wexford,  Waterford,  Cork, 
Kerry,  Limerick,  and  Tipperary.  The  division  of  the  rest  of  the 
island  (nearly  two-thirds  of  it  in  extent)  into  counties,  was  not 
wholly  completed  until  nearly  three  hundred  years  afterwards,  in 
the  reigns  of  Mary  and  Elizabeth. — Stats.  3  and  4  Phil,  and  Mar. 
c.  2.  Ir.;  and  11  Eliz.  Sess.  3,  c.  9,  Ir.  See  the  Tanistry  Case  in 
Sir  John  Davies'  Rep.  102,  Edit.  Dublin,  1762.  There  were  orig- 
inally several  counties  palatine,  having,  like  those  in  England, 
jurisdictions  independent  of  the  ordinary  courts  of  law.  The 
rights  of  all  the  counts  palatine  had,  however,  by  various  means 
become  vested  in  the  crown,  before  the  time  of  Sir  John  Davies, 
who  was  attorney-general  for  Ireland  in  the  reign  of  James  I., 
except  Tipperary,  which  had  been  granted  by  Edward  III.  to  the 
Earl  of  Ormond. — See  case  of  County  of  Wexford,  Davies'  Rep. 
168,  ut  sup.  But  these  rights,  and  the  royalties  subsequently 
granted  in  Tipperary  to  the  Dukes  of  Ormond,  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  II.,  were  all  extinguished  by  Stat.  2  Geo.  I.  c.  8,  Ir.;  and 
there  is  now  no  county  palatine  in  Ireland.  Several  of  the  coun- 
ties have  changed  their  names  since  their  first  institution.  Thus, 
there  is  now  no  county  called  Uriel.  The  county  formerly  called 
Coleraine,  is  now  Londonderry;  Thomond,  is  now  Clare;  Cather- 
logh, is  corrupted  into  Carlow,  &c.  As  the  division  into  counties 
was  introduced  for  the  purpose  of  holding  assizes,  appointing 
V— 21 


322  IRELAND 

sheriffs  to  execute  the  king's  writs,  &c.,  according  to  the  laws  of 
England;  so  it  continues  to  be  used  to  the  present  day  in  all  the 
practical  details  of  the  law  in  Ireland  as  in  England. 

The  counties  are  subdivided  into  baronies,  a  division  which,  it 
would  appear,  was  also  introduced  by  the  English — a  barony,  in 
its  original  meaning,  being  the  honour  and  dignity  which  gives 
title  to  a  baron,  which  anciently  consisted  of  13  knights'  fees  and 
a  quarter,  or  400  merks  per  annum. — Jacob's  Diet.,  by  Rufhead 
and  Morgan,  tit.  Barony.  But  as  the  division  into  counties  has 
long  since  ceased  to  have  any  connection  with  the  titles  of  counts 
or  earls,  so  that  into  baronies  has  no  longer  any  reference  to  the 
dignity  which  it  originally  supported.  The  division  into  baronies 
and  half-baronies  is  at  present  of  great  practical  utility  for  vari- 
ous purposes,  as  in  regulating  the  number  of  constabulary  under 
Stat.  6  Wm.  IV.  c.  13;  the  levying  and  application  of  present- 
ments under  the  grand  jury  act,  6  and  7  Wm.  IV.  c.  116;  for 
some  purposes  connected  with  elections,  Stat.  2  and  3  Wm.  IV. 
c.  88,  &c.  &c.  It  may  be  mentioned,  in  reference  to  the  term 
barony,  that  although  manor-courts  still  exist  in  Ireland,  and  take 
cognizance  of  debts  within  their  respective  districts,  courts  baron, 
at  least  in  the  sense  in  which  they  are  used  in  England,  in  con- 
nection with  the  tenure  of  copyhold  estates,  have  not  been  in  use 
in  Ireland.  Indeed,  it  is  commonly  supposed  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  tenure  by  copyhold  in  Ireland,  although  a  writer  of  high 
authority  mentions  an  instance  of  an  estate  of  this  nature  at 
Kilmoon  or  Primatestown,  in  the  county  of  Meath — 1  Gabbet's 
Dig.  445 — and  copyholds  are  occasionally  mentioned  in  the  Irish 
Statute  Book.  It  may  be  also  noticed,  that  there  is  a  difference 
between  the  dignity  of  baron  as  an  Irish  title  of  nobility,  and  the 
same  dignity  in  England.  The  curious  in  such  matters  will  find 
ample  matter  to  satisfy  them  in  "  Lynch's  law  and  usage  of  pre- 
scriptive baronies  in  Ireland,"  and  the  work  on  Irish  honorary 
hereditary  offices  and  feudal  baronies,  by  the  same  author. 

The  recognized  ecclesiastical  division  of  the  kingdom  into  dio- 
ceses and  parishes  used  by  the  Established  Church,  differs  from 
that  employed  by  the  Roman  Catholics.  The  division  into  parishes 
is  less  important  for  civil  purposes  in  Ireland  than  it  is  in  Eng- 
land. In  consequence  of  the  indisposition  which  existed  to  pay 
assessments  made  at  vestries,  and  the  difficulty  of  peaceably  col- 
lecting them,  the  legislature  have  made  various  provisions  to  dis- 
continue them:  and  the  most  important  of  the  matters  formerly 
provided  by  this  means  are  now  in  the  hands  of  the  ecclesiastical 
commissioners  and  the  grand  juries;  the  principal  charge  at  pres- 


NOTES  323 

ent  provided  for  at  vestry,  except  in  the  county  and  city  of  Dublin, 
being  a  trifling  annual  assessment  for  parish  coffins. 

82  It  is  said  to  have  been  called,  by  the  ancients,  Bergus,  or 
Bargus,  and  by  the  Irish,  Bearbha;  but  some  writers  consider  its 
present  name  to  be  merely  a  slight  alteration  of  Barragh,  the 
boundary  river,  as  it  was  for  several  centuries  the  boundary  which 
divided  the  English  pale  from  the  Irish  clans. 

ss  We  have  been  favoured  with  the  following,  as  among  the  most 
popular  of  the  many  legends  connected  with  the  ancient  castle. 
It  is  given  in  the  words  of  a  gossipping  old  man,  whom  our  in- 
formant had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  as  he  stood  to  take  an 
admiring  view  of  the  venerable  ruin.  "  Do  you  see  that  large 
round  breach,  in  the  middle  of  the  wall  opposite  there,  sir?"  was 
the  question  demanded  of  us,  in  reply  to  an  inquiry  respecting  the 
origin  of  its  present  dismantled  appearance.  "  Yes,"  we  answered. 
"Pray  can  you  tell  us  how  or  by  whom  it  was  effected?"  "To 
be  sure  I  can.  'Twas  Crummel — Oliver  Crummel,  sir,  who  did  it," 
replied  the  man,  warming  as  he  spoke,  and  assuming  a  tone  of 
no  small  importance,  as  it  were,  to  show  how  fully  he  was  ac- 
quainted with  the  sub j  ect.  "  Now,  sir,  if  you  were  to  see  the 
castle  on  the  other  side,  or  to  enter  it,  and  climb  its  walls,  as  I 
have  often  done  in  my  youth,  you  would  see  that  the  spot  in  which 
the  breach  is,  is  the  weakest  and  least  thick  of  any  in  the  entire 
building;  and  well  the  crafty,  cunning  Crummel  knew  that,  when 
he  planted  his  cannon  right  fornenst  that  very  part."  "  But  how 
did  he  become  acquainted  with  the  fact  of  its  being  so?"  we  asked. 
"Why,  then,  I'll  tell  you  that  too,  sir,"  rejoined  our  friend. 
"  Well,  you  see,  when  the  castle  was  besieged,  the  poor  fellows 
who  were  shut  up  within  it,  after  a  short  time  had  nearly  con- 
sumed all  their  provisions;  and  water,  which  you  know  will  not 
keep  fresh  for  any  length  of  time,  was  the  first  to  fail  them. 
There  happened  to  be  in  the  castle  two  or  three  old  women,  serv- 
ants of  the  governor,  and  as  the  loss  of  these  was  to  be  preferred 
to  that  of  a  single  soldier — of  whom  there  were  barely  enough  to 
maintain  the  siege — recourse  was  had  to  the  sending  one  of  them 
during  the  night  to  the  river,  which,  as  you  may  see,  runs  hard 
by,  for  the  purpose  of  drawing  water  to  the  castle.  Well,  as 
chance  would  have  it,  some  of  Crummel's  soldiers,  wandering  about 
at  the  time,  fell  in  with  the  old  woman,  and  carried  her  off  to 
their  camp,  determined  to  have  some  sport  out  of  the  *  Hirish  hag.' 
Learning,  however,  the  object  of  the  errand  in  which  they  had  sur- 
prised her,  and  that  she  had  been  an  inmate  of  the  castle,  they 
resolved  to  turn  the  circumstance  to  their  best  advantage,  and  ac- 


324  IRELAND 

cordingly  promised  her  restoration  of  freedom  and  a  reward,  pro- 
vided she  could  conduct  them  into  the  fortress,  or  inform  them  of 
any  way  by  which  they  would  be  likely  to  succeed  in  their  designs. 
Frightened  almost  out  of  her  wits  by  their  threats,  and  now  en- 
couraged by  their  promises,  she  acquainted  them  with  the  fatal 
secret,  that  the  portion  of  the  front  wall  to  which,  on  the  inside, 
the  staircase  was  fixed,  was,  in  fact,  the  only  point  that  would 
yield  at  all  to  their  artillery.  In  short,  after  some  time,  they 
agreed  on  the  following  terms — that  she,  being  sent  back  to  the 
castle,  should,  about  the  middle  of  the  ensuing  night,  ascend  the 
stairs  that  conducted  to  the  battlemented  parapet  surrounding  the 
summit  of  the  walls,  and,  standing  by  its  edge,  should  hold  forth 
a  burning  torch  to  signify  the  place  where  the  frailty  lay.  Like 
a  fool,  as  she  must  undoubtedly  have  been,  and  like  a  wretched 
dupe  as  she  proved  herself,  she  kept  her  word,  and  exhibited  at 
the  appointed  hour  the  signal  agreed  on;  and  Crummel,  who  had 
been  most  anxiously  awaiting  her  appearance,  instantly  discharged 
his  shot  in  the  direction  where  the  light  was  seen,  and  continued 
the  battery  until  he  succeeded  in  compelling  the  garrison  to  sur- 
render. And  now,  let  me  tell  you,  that  she  was  the  first  to  meet 
her  death  on  that  occasion — the  old  hag,  as  she  deserved,  having 
been  blown  to  atoms — the  victim  of  her  own  treachery." 

s*  Here  is  an  invitation  to  the  cotton-spinners  of  Manchester ! 
But  not  to  this  particular  locality  alone;  there  are  hundreds  of 
places  in  Ireland  where  the  water  power  is  as  great  or  greater, 
giving  sure  promise  of  fortune  to  the  employer,  as  well  as  profitable 
labour  to  the  employed.  It  is  the  calculation  of  an  eminent  Eng- 
lish engineer,  that  in  a  space  of  two  or  three  miles,  between  Lough 
Corrib  and  the  Bay  of  Galway  (the  opposite  neighbour  of  America, 
be  it  remembered),  where  there  are  several  flour-mills,  there  runs, 
unemployed  and  to  waste,  a  water  power  sufficient  to  turn  every 
spindle  in  Manchester — a  counterbalance  for  all  the  steam  force 
employed  there,  which  may  be  fairly  estimated  to  amount  to 
above  100,000  horse  power. 

ss  Among  the  English  names,  it  has  been  remarked  that  a  large 
proportion  of  them  begin  with  the  letter  B — as  the  Bruens,  the 
Butlers,  the  Bagenels,  the  Bests,  the  Browns,  the  Bunburys,  the 
Burtons,  and  many  others.  Hence  the  sayings  were  common  in 
Carlow,  "Beware  of  the  B's,"  and  "the  B's  of  Carlow  carry  a 
sting  " — alluding  to  the  "  good  old  times,"  when  "  a  duel  at  day- 
break was  considered  necessary  to  procure  an  appetite  for  break- 
fast." 

sa  The  descent  of  this  very  ancient  family  has  been  "  attested  " 


NOTES  325 

by  Sir  William  Betham,  and  an  outline  of  it  is  given  in  Mr.  Ryan's 
history  of  the  county ;  who  extracts  it  from  "  the  pedigree  of  the 
ancient  illustrious,  noble,  and  princely  house  of  Kavanagh,  in 
ancient  times  monarchs  of  all  Ireland,  and  at  the  period  of  the 
invasion  of  Ireland,  by  Henry  II.,  king  of  Leinster;  deducing 
their  descent  from  Bratha,  the  great  grandfather  of  Milesius,  who 
flourished  fourteen  hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era,  down 
to  the  present  day."  Whether  or  not  sufficient  data  have  been 
obtained  for  tracing  back  the  progenitors  of  the  Kavanaghs  to 
a  period  so  very  remote,  it  is  certain  that  safe  authorities  exist 
for  establishing  their  claim  to  an  uninterrupted  succession  for 
many  centuries.  "  On  the  4th  of  November,  1550,  Charles  or 
Cahir  Mac-Art-Macmorough  Kavanagh,  chief  of  the  name,  in  the 
great  council-chamber  of  Dublin,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  lord- 
lieutenant,  Sir  Anthony  St.  Leger,  submitted  himself,  and  publicly 
renounced  the  title  and  dignity  of  Macmorough,  as  borne  by  his 
ancestors."  Stories,  legends,  and  traditions  of  various  members 
of  the  family — who  took  active  parts  in  all  the  several  wars  of 
ages — of  course  abound  in  the  county  of  Carlow.  One  of  the  most 
interesting  we  transcribe  from  Hardiman's  "  Minstrelsy."  He 
lays,  however,  the  scene  of  the  incident  in  Connaught,  which,  says 
Mr.  Ryan,  "must  certainly  be  an  error,  as  the  Kavanaghs  were 
always  a  Leinster  family."  Tradition  relates  that  it  occurred  at 
Clonmullin,  a  castle  in  the  barony  of  Forth.  It  was  in  existence 
about  fifty  years  ago;  but  the  plough  has  since  passed  over  the 
site.  "Caroll  Moore  O'Daly  was  brother  to  the  celebrated 
Donogh,  a  turbulent  chieftain  in  Connaught,  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth.  He  was  one  of  the  most  accomplished  gentlemen  of  his 
day,  and  particularly  excelled  in  poetry  and  music.  He  paid  his 
addresses  to  Ellen,  daughter  of  M.  Kavanagh,  a  lovely  and  amiable 
lady,  who  returned  his  affections  more  favourably  than  her  friends 
wished,  who  disapproved  of  the  connexion.  It  happened  that  an 
affair  of  consequence  drew  O'Daly  to  another  part  of  Ireland,  and 
the  friends  of  Ellen  seized  the  opportunity  of  his  absence  to  pro- 
mote the  suit  of  a  rival.  By  a  variety  of  reports,  artfully  con- 
veyed to  her,  she  was  induced  to  suspect  the  attachment  of  her 
lover,  and  was  finally  persuaded  he  had  left  the  country  to  be 
married  to  another.  The  afflicted  Ellen,  indifferent  now  to  every 
object,  was  prevailed  on  by  her  friends  to  acquiesce  in  their  choice. 
His  rival  was  favourably  received,  and  a  day  was  fixed  for  their 
nuptials,  which  were  to  be  as  splendid  as  the  hospitable  manners 
and  the  social  propensities  of  the  Irish  called  for  on  such  an  oc- 
casion. The  report  of  these  preparations  soon  reached  the  ears  of 


326  IRELAND 

the  unfortunate  O'Daly;  he  hastened  his  return,  and  arrived  in 
Connaught  on  the  evening  before  the  appointed  day.  Under  the 
impression  of  his  feelings,  he  sought  with  his  harp  a  wild  and  se- 
questered spot  on  the  sea-shore,  and,  inspired  by  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  occasion,  he  composed  the  song  of  '  Eibblin  A'Ruin,'  which 
remains  to  this  time  an  exquisite  memorial  of  his  skill  and  sensi- 
bility. Disguised  as  a  gleeman  or  minstrel,  he  next  day  gained 
easy  access  among  the  crowd  of  company  that  thronged  to  the 
wedding;  and  after  exercising  his  talents  in  a  variety  of  ways  for 
the  amusement  of  the  guests,  he  was  called  upon  by  Ellen  herself 
to  play.  It  was  then  that,  touching  his  harp  with  all  the  pathetic 
sensibility  this  deeply  interesting  occasion  inspired,  he  infused  his 
own  feelings  into  the  song  he  had  composed,  and  breathed  into  his 
softened  strain  the  very  soul  of  pensive  melody.  The  sympathetic 
heart  of  Ellen  instantly  felt  its  force;  she  recognised  her  lover  in 
his  disguise,  and  by  that  secret  communication  of  sentiment  that 
needs  not  the  aid  of  words  to  convey  it,  intimated  her  unalterable 
attachment,  and  her  readiness  to  fly  with  him  from  her  reluctant 
engagement.  The  plan  of  escape  was  instantly  concerted,  the 
guests  were  more  liberally  supplied  with  usquebaugh  than  even 
the  festivity  of  the  occasion  called  for;  they  were  reduced  to  a 
state  of  insensibility,  and  the  happy  lovers  easily  effected  their 
escape." 

s^The  former  relates  that,  A.D.  375,  Eochaidh,  a  usurping  sov- 
ereign, being  exiled  to  Scotland  by  "  Niall  of  the  nine  hostages," 
killed  a  Druid  when  on  the  eve  of  embarkation;  for  which  crime 
Niall  invaded  his  territory  and  "  much  distressed  the  inhabitants." 
The  father  of  the  Druid  pitying  the  innocent,  who  thus  suffered 
for  the  guilty,  proposed  to  check  all  hostilities,  provided  Eochaidh 
were  delivered  into  his  hands.  The  people,  reduced  to  the  last 
extremity,  acceded  to  the  proposal,  and  placed  the  Prince  at  the 
disposal  of  his  enraged  enemy,  by  whom  he  was  chained  to  a 
large  upright  stone,  with  a  view  of  exposing  him  to  all  the  pains 
of  a  lingering  death;  but  after  some  time  the  Druid  resolved  on 
depriving  him  of  existence  by  a  more  summary  process,  and  or- 
dered nine  soldiers  to  destroy  him,  not  being  without  a  well- 
grounded  apprehension  that  Eochaidh,  who  was  possessed  of  great 
bravery  and  strength,  would  make  a  formidable  resistance.  Nor 
was  he  mistaken.  Rendered  desperate  by  the  approach  of  his 
executioners,  the  Prince  made  a  superhuman  effort  to  obtain  his 
liberty,  which  he  effected  by  forcing  one  of  the  rivets  of  the 
chain  by  which  he  was  confined.  He  immediately  attacked  the 
soldiers,  possessed  himself  of  arms,  slew  some  of  them,  and  finally 


NOTES  327 

effected  his  escape.  Keating  points  out  the  place  in  which  the 
stone  "  may  still  be  seen ;  "  but  Mr.  Ryan  gives  it  another  locality, 
and  accompanies  his  assertion  with  a  "  full  description "  of  it — • 
at  the  expiration  of  the  fifteen  hundredth  year  of  its  celebrity ! 
We  extract  Mr.  Ryan's  note: — "  CLOCH-A'-PHOILL  (literally  the 
hole-stone  in  Irish). — Two  miles  south  of  Tullow,  in  the  parish  of 
Aghade,  is  a  huge  piece  of  granite  of  singular  appearance.  It 
is  about  twelve  feet  in  height  and  four  in  breadth,  having  an 
aperture  through  it,  near  the  top.  There  is  a  tradition,  that  a  son 
of  one  of  the  Irish  kings  was  chained  to  this  stone,  but  that  he 
contrived  to  break  his  chain  and  escape.  This  tradition  coincides 
exactly  with  our  historical  notice.  There  are  marks  left,  caused 
by  the  friction  of  the  iron  on  the  stone.  We  would  at  once  con- 
clude that  it  was  a  bull  or  some  other  animal  that  was  chained 
here,  and  not  a  human  being,  were  not  the  tradition  confirmed  by 
written  history,  the  verity  of  which  we  are  not  disposed  to  con- 
trovert. This  stone  is  now  thrown  from  its  perpendicular,  and  it 
was  a  practice  with  the  peasantry  to  pass  ill-thriven  infants 
through  the  aperture  in  order  to  improve  their  constitution.  Great 
numbers  formerly  indulged  in  this  superstitious  folly,  but  for  the 
last  twenty  years  the  practice  has  been  discontinued.  My  inform- 
ant on  this  occasion  was  a  woman  who  had  herself  passed  one  of 
her  infants  through  the  aperture  of  this  singular  stone.  She  in- 
formed me,  that  some  of  the  country  people  talked  of  having  it 
cut  up  for  gate-posts,  but  a  superstitious  feeling  prevented  them. 
Every  antiquary  would  regret  the  demolition  of  the  cloch-a'- 
phoill." 

ss  A  singular  instance,  characteristic  of  the  age,  is  related  of 
the  immediate  descendant  of  this  earl.  William,  the  eldest  son, 
succeeded  to  the  possessions  of  his  father;  on  his  accession,  the 
bishop  of  Ferns  (a  Cistertian  monk)  made  a  formal  complaint  to 
the  king,  that  William,  the  late  earl,  had  forcibly  taken  possession 
of  two  manors  or  lordships  belonging  to  his  church,  and  held  them 
by  the  sword.  Having  frequently  remonstrated  with  the  earl,  but 
to  no  purpose,  the  bishop  thundered  against  him  the  sentence  of 
excommunication;  which  the  earl  completely  despised,  and  alleged 
his  determination  to  retain  the  lordships  by  the  law  of  arms.  On 
which  declaration,  one  Melckeria,  we  are  told,  wrote  a  distich,  per- 
sonating the  earl-marshal.  Thus  anciently  Englished: — 

"  I  am  whom  Ireland  Saturn  hight,  and  England  Sol  me  calls; 
Amidst  the  Normans  Mercury,  and  Mars  among  the  Gauls." 

The  earl  died  in  full  possession  of  the  disputed  territory,  which 
descended  to  his  son  William,  earl-marshal,  the  younger. 


328  IRELAND 

s»  A  curious  anecdote  connected  with  Old  Leighlin  is  told  by 
Ware: — "On  a  certain  time  there  was  a  great  council  of  the 
people  of  Ireland  held  in  the  White-field;  between  whom  there 
arose  a  controversy  concerning  the  order  of  celebrating  Easter. 
For  Laserian,  abbot  of  Leighlin,  who  presided  over  1,500  monks, 
defended  the  new  order,  which  was  then  lately  sent  from  Rome; 
while  others  adhered  to  the  old  form.  But  St.  Munnu  did  not 
immediately  appear  at  this  council,  though  every  one  waited  for 
him.  He  stood  by  the  old  order,  and  came  to  the  council  the 
same  day  before  evening.  Then  St.  Munnu  said  to  the  abbot 
Laserian,  in  the  presence  of  all  the  people,  thus:  It  is  now  time 
to  break  up  this  council,  that  every  man  may  depart  to  his  own 
place.  You  have  three  options  given  you,  O  Laserian:  let  two 
books,  one  of  the  old  order  and  another  of  the  new,  be  cast  into 
the  fire,  and  let  us  see  which  of  them  shall  escape  from  the  flames. 
Or  let  two  monks,  one  of  yours  and  another  of  mine,  be  shut  up 
in  the  same  house,  and  let  the  house  be  set  on  fire,  and  we  shall 
see  which  of  them  shall  escape  unhurt.  Or  let  us  both  go  to  the 
sepulchre  of  a  dead  monk,  and  raise  him  up  to  life;  and  he  will 
show  us  which  order  we  ought  to  observe  in  the  celebration  of 
Easter.  To  which  St.  Laserian  answered:  We  will  not  proceed 
to  judgment  with  you;  because  we  know,  that  if  you  commanded 
Mount-Marge  to  be  changed  into  the  White-field,  and  the  White- 
field  to  be  removed  to  the  place  where  Mount-Marge  stands,  that, 
on  account  of  your  infinite  labours  and  great  sanctity,  God  would 
immediately  do  this  for  your  sake.  Afterwards  the  people  re- 
turned every  one  to  their  own  houses." 

so  The  first  police-station  we  visited  was  at  Ballyneen,  a  village 
near  Dunmanway;  we  were  merely  passing  through  it,  and  of 
course  our  inspection  was  quite  unlocked  for,  and,  consequently, 
unprepared  for.  The  sergeant,  a  remarkably  fine  and  intelligent 
young  man,  Alex.  Hewston,  readily  complied  with  our  request  to 
be  permitted  to  examine  his  barrack.  It  contained  five  men; 
strong  and  active  fellows;  the  rooms  were  all  whitewashed;  the 
little  garden  was  well  cultivated  and  free  from  weeds;  they  slept 
on  iron  bedsteads;  and  the  palliasses,  blankets,  pillows,  &c.,  were 
neatly  rolled  up  and  placed  at  the  head  of  each.  The  fire-arms 
and  bayonets,  polished  as  a  mirror,  were  hung  up  over  each  bed; 
and  the  floors  were  as  clean — to  adopt  a  familiar  simile — "  as  a 
new  pin."  Each  man  had  his  small  box  at  his  bed-foot.  All  was 
in  as  perfect  order  as  if  all  had  been  prepared  in  this  little  out- 
of-the-way  place  for  the  accustomed  call  of  the  inspector.  The 
sub-inspector,  we  learned,  visited  the  station  once  a  month — the 


NOTES  329 

inspector  once  a  quarter.  In  this  barrack  the  men  were  all  bache- 
lors; but  it  is  usual  to  assign  one  married  man  with  his  wife  to 
each — the  wife,  of  course,  arranging  the  rooms,  and  providing  the 
meals  of  the  men,  who  always  mess  together.  We  afterwards  ex- 
amined many  other  stations,  and  invariably  found  our  first  im- 
pressions borne  out. 

»i  The  dress  of  both  the  cavalry  and  infantry  is,  the  coat  of  rifle 
green,  with  black  facings,  and  the  trowsers  Oxford  grey;  black 
belts;  caps  with  leather  tops;  the  arms,  carbines  and  bayonets; 
and  each  man  wears  at  his  belt  a  handcuff  case,  in  which  hand- 
cuffs are  always  carried.  When  on  duty  in  courts,  the  men  carry 
batoons,  and  deposit  their  arms  in  the  police-barracks.  When 
their  duty  is  discharged,  "  they  are  to  return  the  batoons  to  the 
head  or  other  constable  authorised  to  receive  them,  and  resume 
their  arms."  Each  man  is  required  to  have,  at  all  times,  twenty 
rounds  of  ball-cartridge  in  his  pouch. 

92  Increased  to  ten  pounds  by  55th  Geo.  III.,  cap.  158. 

83  The  force  employed  under  this  act  were  universally  known  by 
the  cognomen  of  "  Peelers ; "  and  for  a  considerable  time  after- 
wards the  name  was  so  obnoxious  to  the  peasantry,  that  the  serv- 
ice became  one  of  great  danger,  as  well  as  odium;  it  was  therefore 
found  exceedingly  difficult  to  induce  men  of  good  habits  to  join  it. 

94  Chief  magistrate's  salary,  seven  hundred  pounds  per  annum, 
besides  allowance  for  a  house,  horses,  &c.    Chief  constable,  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  per  annum,  with  allowances.     Sub-con- 
stable, fifty  pounds  per  annum,  with  clothes  and  lodgings. 

95  The  act  requires  that  every  sub-constable  should  be  able  to 
read   and  write,  and  be  an  able-bodied  man.     No  man  is  taken 
under  five  feet  eight  inches  in  height;  upon  a  late  occasion,  when 
a  hundred  men  were  sent  on  duty  to  a  distant  county,  out  of  fifty 
from  one  county  there  were  twenty-seven  six  feet  two  inches  and 
over. 

96  We  desired  to  form  some  estimate  of  the  relative  numbers  of 
Protestants  and  Roman  Catholics  employed  in  the  force;  and  found 
that,  in  Ulster,  there  was  a  greater  proportion  of  the  former,  but 
that  the  latter  greatly  preponderated  in  the  other  provinces.    We 
took,  at  chance,  two  returns — one  from  the  Ulster  list,  the  other 
from  that  of  Munster;  and  ascertained  that  in  Antrim  county,  in 
one  district,  there  were  twenty-three  Protestants  and  six  Catholics; 
and  in  Cork,  in  one  district,  twenty-two  Catholics  and  seven  Prot- 
estants: we  believe  a  nearly  similar  result  would  have  been  ex- 
hibited by  all  the  other  returns  from  the  north  and  the  south.     We 
inquired  from  many  of  the  men,  of  both  religions,  whether  their 


330  IRELAND 

opposite  principles  prevented  their  living  in  harmony  or  acting  in 
concert;  and  were  assured  that  the  subject  was  seldom  canvassed 
among  them,  and  very  rarely  indeed  led  to  "  ill-blood."  It  is 
notorious,  that  in  the  army  difference  of  religion  never  leads  to 
discord:  we  rejoiced  to  find  it  was  the  case,  also,  in  this  force; 
and  we  were  thus  furnished  with  another  gratifying  proof  that 
religious  distinctions — as  a  ground  of  jealousy  or  hatred — are 
growing  every  day  less  and  less  influential  in  Ireland. 

*7  The  resignations  are  principally  of  men  who  have  obtained 
better  situations  (members  of  the  force  being  very  much  sought 
for  by  gentlemen  and  others  requiring  steady  and  efficient  servants 
or  assistants),  or  of  men  wishing  to  avoid  the  disgrace  of  dis- 
missal. 

98  The  present  inspector-general  is  Colonel  Duncan  M'Gregor,  an 
officer  of  great  experience,  derived  from  services  in  various  parts 
of  the  world.    It  is  admitted  on  all  hands,  that  no  man  is  better 
calculated  to  occupy  so  important  a  position;  and  he  has  succeeded 
— a  task  by  no  means  easy — in  governing  the  force  without  in- 
curring the  charge  of  recognising  the  existence  of  any  party.    In- 
deed, the  great  efficacy  of  the  establishment  arises  to  a  consider- 
able extent  from  the  fact,  that  its  chief  officers  have  been  enabled 
to  remove  all  suspicion  of  its  being  biassed  by  undue  motives,  and 
to  the  respect  and  esteem  in  which  the  inspector-general  is  uni- 
versally held.     He  is  emphatically  "  popular "  among  all  classes. 
In  every  instance  in  which  we  consulted  either  the  officers  or  the 
men,  upon  the  essential  point  whether  they  had  confidence  in  their 
"  commander-in-chief,"  we  received  but  one  answer — generally  given 
with  a  feeling  akin  to  personal  affection.    Colonel  M'Gregor  had 
been  known  to  the  world  previously  to  his  appointment  in  Ireland. 
It  was  this  officer  who  published  an  account  of  the  "Loss  of  the* 
Kent  Indiaman  by  Fire,  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay  " — and  to  whose  own 
share  of  exertion  on  the  melancholy  occasion,  testimony  has  been 
borne  by  every  survivor  except  himself. 

99  We  quote  a  few  passages  from  the  "  Introduction  to  the  Rules 
and  Regulations  for  the  Government  and  Guidance  of  the  Con- 
stabulary Force."    "  The  Inspector-general  is  particularly  desirous 
in  the  outset  to  impress  on  every  member  of  the  constabulary, 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  how  very  incumbent  it  is  on  them 
to  act  in  the  discharge  of  their  various  duties  with  the  utmost 
forbearance,  mildness,  urbanity,  and  perfect  civility  towards  all 
classes  of  Her  Majesty's  subjects;  and  that  upon  no  occasion,  or 
under  any  provocation,  should  they  so  forget  themselves  as  to 
permit  their  feelings  to  get  the  better  of  their  discretion,  and  con- 


NOTES  331 

duct  themselves  rudely  or  harshly  in  the  performance  of  their  re- 
spective offices;  for  nothing  will  serve  more  to  create  a  kindly 
feeling,  and  cause  the  force  to  be  respected  and  looked  up  to,  than 
a  mild,  conciliatory,  moral,  and  decorous  line  of  conduct,  and  a 
general  readiness  on  the  part  of  all  classes  to  render  kindness  or 
assistance  to  every  member  of  the  community,  whilst  an  opposite 
course  and  bearing  could  only  engender  in  the  mind  of  the  public 
an  angry  or  hostile  feeling  towards  the  members  of  the  force,  and 
consequently  bring  the  establishment  into  disrepute.  But,  above 
all,  both  officers  and  men  are  studiously  to  avoid,  in  every  respect, 
the  most  remote  appearance  of  partisanship,  or  the  expression  of 
sectarian  or  political  opinions.  It  is  very  difficult  to  make  men 
fully  understand  the  totally  new  position  in  which  they  are  placed 
on  becoming  members  of  the  force.  They  become  peace-officers, 
and  are  in  an  entirely  new  situation;  they  are  invested  with  cer- 
tain powers  by  law  which  they  must  exert  with  great  caution  and 
prudence,  and  it  is  most  essential  that  they  keep  under  complete 
control  their  private  feelings.  It  is  totally  inconsistent  with  the 
situation  in  which  the  law  and  their  office  place  them,  that  they 
enter  into  altercations  or  squabbles  of  any  kind;  if  wantonly  as- 
saulted, they  have  a  legal  power  to  arrest  the  assailant,  or,  if 
that  be  imprudent  or  impossible  at  the  time,  to  take  proceedings 
against  him  afterwards.  As  to  altercation  or  squabbling,  they  are 
altogether  inadmissible  in  a  peace-officer;  he  has  the  power  to 
avoid  them,  and  must  do  so.  There  must  be  two  parties  in  an 
altercation,  and  nothing  can  justify  a  constable's  being  one  of 
them,  or  joining  one  of  them.  On  all  occasions  in  which  men  of 
the  force  are  placed  under  circumstances  tending  to  create  feelings 
of  irritation,  they  should  maintain  the  utmost  self-possession,  self- 
control,  and  calmness.  The  position  in  which  the  constabulary 
force  is  placed,  make  it  particularly  desirable  that  their  conduct 
should  be  marked  by  civility,  and  that  they  should  show  kindness, 
and  render  assistance,  on  all  occasions  when  they  see  proper  op- 
portunities for  doing  so." 

100  The  shillalah  derives  its  name  from  a  famous  wood  near  Ark- 
low,  in  the  county  of  Wicklow,  where  the  best  oaks  and  black- 
thorns were  grown.  It  was  generally  about  three  feet  long:  some- 
times a  smaller  one  was  used,  called  "  a  Kippeen,"  or  "  Cla' 
alpeen;"  and  occasionally  one  of  eight  or  ten  feet  long,  called  "a 
Wattle."  The  peasantry  were  very  choice  in  the  selection  of  their 
national  weapon,  and  especially  careful  in  its  preparation  after  it 
was  cut.  Sometimes  it  was  tempered  in  a  dung-heap,  at  others 
in  slack  lime;  but  the  more  usual  mode  was  to  rub  it  over  re- 


332  IRELAND 

peatedly  with  butter,  and  place  it  "  up  the  chimney,"  where  it 
was  left  for  a  period  of  several  months.  We  have  in  our  posses- 
sion one  that  we  have  pretty  good  evidence  had  been  actively 
engaged  in  every  fair  in  the  neighbourhood  for  above  twenty 
years,  and  at  length  came  into  the  hands  of  a  magistrate,  from 
whom  we  received  it,  in  consequence  of  its  owner  having  been 
transported  for  manslaughter  at  a  fight. 


